Mass Effect: Destination Unknown
by ironman lukes
Summary: Extremely dark Mass Effect universe. Sex, drugs, and time travel. What more could you want?
1. Darkness

**CHAPTER ONE**

**DARKNESS**

A twelve year old girl in a white gown is standing in a dim room. She has beautiful brown hair that goes down to her shoulders, and intense green eyes. With blood dripping down her hands, she advances towards a man cringing against the wall. "No please, please! I was only doing what they were telling me!" The man on the floor is yelling hysterically.

_I was going to be the best mother in the world. You took my baby. It was the only thing I had. I want to die and be with my baby. _

With incredible power and speed she reaches down grabs his balls. He yelps, and loses his breath. Fear grips the man. Terror has driven every thought, every action from his existence. She knew that nothing she did in this world would heal her pain. This would make her forget for a moment—no more. _This is for my child, for my love, for my friends. _She screams as she tears at him like a wild beast. His pants rip, and all that remains is a bloody mass in her hand.

The man turns white and goes into shock. Tears are streaming down her face. The pain is unbearable. _Why did you do it? What God lets this happen? What have I done? _She punches the shredded organs into the man's mouth. His teeth are obliterated. His jaw breaks loose on the right side and is dangling unnaturally. She grips it and removes it with a quick jerk. The man is convulsing and gurgling on the floor. Blood is spraying from his face and crotch. Jack lets out one last scream, and crushes the man's skull between her two fists.

_**TEN YEARS LATER**_

"Fuck you Shepard! Don't tell me how to live my life! Goddamnit I swear to fucking God!" Jack was screaming at Shepard. She was so angry the walls were shifting. She was angry because Shepard had caught her, she was angry that she had to use this shit to quiet her mind. She was angry that she had convinced herself that she needed it. She didn't need it—she didn't need anyone or anything.

They were on the Normandy in Jack's quarters. Cold and dark—just like everything else in her life. Shepard had been coming down for the past two weeks, every fucking day—small talk. She knew what he wanted. She wanted it too. Shepard wasn't her type, but he was legit. Not like these other faggots she'd meet down at the ports. A lot of talk and that's about it. Besides, she bet he had a big cock too.

She had been sitting on her bed taking her dose when Shepard came walking in. Fuck—she was so focused on catching that glimpse, that glimmer of something good in her life: the only fucking thing—that she didn't even hear him come down the stairs. _You're losing it Jack. You're fucking losing it, and you're going to end up like one of those whores on Omega_. Got a dose sweety? Fuck those sloppy cunts. She wanted to kill all of them. If she killed all of them, she could never become them.

He came in right as the last of the dice went into her veins. A plume of blood could be seen in the florescent blue vial. She was taking the dice to forget about being human, and the dice was taking her blood to become human. Both sides knew that there would never be a compromise, for both would greedily grab for more, but soon there would be forgiveness, and a new dose taken. Jack watched in horror.

They looked into each other's eyes. Jack closed hers, Shepard watched the exchange. She desperately tried to find her way. She knew she didn't have much time. The darkness was closing fast. If only she could remember, she couldn't remember the way. A phoenix burst from a cavernous pit, she grabbed hold. She lay on its back naked, she was a child. The flames licked her skin. She became the fire. She was free. _I love you. Do you love me? Tell me you love me._ Accelerating ascension, sky becoming clear—the clouds are parting; the sun and the wind._ Do you love me_? Darkness.

Jack opened her eyes and looked at Shepard. He was still looking at her—silence; shame; anger; understanding. She exhaled a breath; she didn't remember when she had taken it. He crossed his arms and leaned against the bulkhead. "You know what the rules are on my ship," he said in his professional tone."

"Fuck you Shepard! Don't tell me how to live my life! Goddamnit I swear to fucking God!" She was still reeling from losing her way. He had done it. He had gotten in the way. "Don't act all high and mighty around me, everybody knows why you've been coming down here," she said in an indignant voice.

She stood up quickly, and walked over to within a couple of inches of Shepard. When she moved she seemed dangerous. Everything about Jack was unpredictable, rogue. From the tattoos covering her body, to the wild swagger which she now displayed—and that's the way she liked it.

The sight of Jack and Shepard in close proximity was almost comical. He was a tall dark powerful man; reserved, calculating. She was a short, bald, tattooed fugitive of life. Yet there was an elusive commonality that hung in the air. A wild core—an element which had been shaped through pain, through hardship. Strangers to the darkness, these two were not; its smothering embrace had seen them through hell.

Shepard stood a couple of inches taller than her. She leaned in by his face. "Do you want to fuck me Shepard—is that it?" She whispered in a sensual voice. Her breath was hot on his throat, on his mouth. Her eyes were wild, dilated, and green. They looked of pain, and of fear. She wore black pants and a black strap around her chest covering her nipples, nothing more. "Come on Shepard, what's the matter? Don't tell me you're a faggot," she said with a slight chuckle.

Hot breath on his lips—memories of a passionate life began to swirl in his head: a time almost forgotten, yet now it commanded every inch of his being. He could smell the cigarettes, the chemicals, the sexuality on her breath. _I want you, I want to be inside of you. _

Their eyes locked. Hers—wild, green, and scared; his—hard, brown, wanting—time stopped. Shepard met her face with his own. They exhaled into each other's mouths and kissed. At first the exchange was one of mutual curiosity, a soft mindful embrace. Primal ferocity soon took hold. Shepard could taste blood in his mouth.

After reasoning that yes, the commitment had been made, that there was no confusion; they quickly made their way to Jack's rack. Rack, is more appropriate than bed, because it was merely a slab of metal. Jack quickly took her panties off, throwing them in the corner. She lay on her back. Shepard followed suite—undoing his pants in a mad rage. He was fully erect.

Jack spread her legs, and Shepard slid inside of her. Jack was wet and receptive. They quickly resumed the ravenous fervor, in which they were engaged previously. There was biting, clawing, writhing. Jack arched her back and Shepard could feel her powerful muscles compress inside. This is beyond what either had ever experienced. It was pain, lust, hate, love—it was life.

Shepard grabbed hold of Jack's shoulders and starting ramming her without mercy. The power of the blows was considerable, and it only fed the frenzy. Jack reached under Shepard's arms and wrapped them around his neck. She pulled him close, and she whispered, "Do you love me?" Shepard continued his barrage. She whispered it again, this time with more conviction. Shepard let out a distracted grunt.

Jack slapped Shepard on the side of the head. Shepard stopped and looked at her in a sort of wild confusion. "Fuck you Shepard!" she barked, "I'm not going any Goddamn further until you tell me that you love me, now tell me that you love me motherfucker!"

There was a moment of silence. Jack's eyes were wide, and burning with nuclear intensity. Shepard took a moment and calculated his course of action. _There was never time for a woman. Now it is my time. I deserve this._

"I love you."

"Say it again motherfucker."

"I love you."

Satisfied with the results, Jack brought her arms down. Taking his cue, Shepard began pumping again.

Jack reached down beside her rack and delicately fingered the latch of a small black box open. This was relatively easy, because it was a common ritual of hers. It was her dice box. She grabbed two vials out. One was for her, and one was for her love. Together they would fly to the place, that place which she longed for so much. _Do you love me? Tell me you love me._

Sweat was dripping down Shepard's nose. His and Jack's bodies were slick and glistening. He was getting close. He looked deep into Jack's eyes, and realized he didn't see the fear anymore. No more anger either. It was a look of wondrous compassion; of unrealized hope. Suddenly, the pupils dilated, almost eclipsing their green limit.

Jack knew she would have to be quick. She took the second vial and stuck it in Shepard's thigh. She could feel the warm rush of his cum deep inside of her. She had never felt a man cum inside of her. She was too numb at the facility when the guards would rape her at night—too numb to even scream or cry. She had died many deaths.

Shepard froze. Physically, he was staring into Jack's eyes. Mentally he was in an entirely different state. Jack's pupils were the blackness of deep space, their size: infinite. Shepard fell through them, although fall may not be the proper word—how do you fall through something that is everything? Regardless, he did not stop, the journey was eternal—yet through another mode consciousness, or quite possibly a parallel universe he found himself standing before a thresher maw on some unknown planet. The planet was desolate, all around him lay a desert containing deep red sand and large rocks. It began to speak. In a deep mechanical voice the beast said, "Only through darkness will you find the light." The sound thundered throughout the atmosphere.


	2. ELOH TIBBAR EHT NWOD

**CHAPTER TWO**

**ELOH TIBBAR EHT NWOD**

Clouds were swirling overhead. Lightning lit up the sky all around Shepard. There was a strange sensation throughout his body. It was almost as if all of the natural forces which he was accustomed to had become altered. The pressure of the air, the temperature, the gravity, the colors which he was seeing—they all seemed to be different from anything that he had ever known.

The air churned around him, flashing different colors and shapes. It was like he was in a great sea. He watched as it swirled in massive, never ending currents. It was predominantly a light greenish color, with little sub-currents of blue and red dancing throughout it. After realizing that it was in the midst of this, Shepard's mind halted the breathing process. _Was I breathing?_ He didn't remember and his brain locked. He didn't know what to do. Shepard could feel the life slowly ebb out of him. Shepard was drowning. He could feel his body using the last of its oxygen. His chest was burning. He began to thrash. _Take control! You must take control or you will die! The weak die—you are strong!_ Against every instinctual thought process in his body—Shepard took a deep breath. The green current rushed into his lungs. _Relief, life returning. _ He exhaled a blue stream. It floated until it found another flow of blue, and they became one. This must be a precautionary measure taken by the human brain. I suppose it could have its uses though. Imagine waking under the surface of a great body of water. I would hope that you would not take a breath!

The maw towered before him in a quite peculiar stance. Standing tall over Shepard, it looked almost directly down at him and was motionless. It looked like a schoolmaster preparing to lecture a child. The current flowed past the maw. It did not breathe it in. Then it began to speak again.

"Well?" thundered the maw. A great blast of green came down at Shepard. It was if he was standing beneath a waterfall. He braced for impact: nothing. It just flowed past his face, bounced off of the ground, and dispersed throughout immediate area. Shepard thought he might have felt the light brush of something against him, but it may have all been in his mind. This was all in his mind. Or was it?

"I don't understand," replied Shepard. A blue stream escaped his mouth.

"It is by no mistake that you stand before me Shepard. The decision to bring you here predates the Reapers and the Protheans." A representation of a reaper ship formulated out of the red substance in front of Shepard's face. It was small and translucent. "The decision was made during a time when your concept of time would not apply—it does not apply."

"Then what the hell do you want from me?" This I can assure the reader, was just as confusing to Shepard as it is to you.

"I require something that only you can provide. You are the only human in the universe that is equipped to complete this mission."

"Enough with these riddles just tell me what you want!" Even though Shepard did not know his immediate fate—his patience was still being tried.

"I want you to know that there is much more to your existence than what you are currently aware of. In your mind and your mind alone lies the key for our survival. Your destination is unknown to me, but I can assure you that the pathway to the light will be very dark indeed."

Shepard looked at the maw carefully. He was trying to glean some speck of legitimate information out of the beast—nothing. He blinked and the maw was gone. In fact the entire world that he had been standing on was gone. Shepard was surrounded by nothing. I suppose the white that he found himself in the midst of counts for something. Shepard was surrounded by white. It appeared as if the atmosphere was reacting on more familiar terms this time too. No colors or shapes—just nothing. Shepard closed his eyes.

tick—tock—tick—tock

The sound of a thousand clocks thundered in his head. Their cadence was unmistakable. He opened his eyes and saw he was surrounded by them: thousands of clocks which appeared to be from the 20th or 21st century. They were large wooden grandiose things, with giant golden pendulums swinging from side to side. Shepard had seen many simulations of these, and even had seen them on exhibit as a child. There was something striking about their machinations though. After some analysis, he realized that the clocks were operating backwards—going back in time—the entire lot of them.

They all ticked away until they reached 7 'o clock. Then, they began chiming. At first the noise was bearable, but soon it became quite intense. So intense in fact, that it felt that he was going to be torn apart. He tried to scream but the sound of the clocks was overwhelming. In fact he couldn't hear anything anymore. He could only feel the vibrations of the chimes against his chest. It was so strong he could hardly breathe. The sound was so strong that it began to dissolve the world around him. Shepard dissolved into nothing. Not a particle, not a singularity, but nothing. He tried to scream—but how does nothing scream? It doesn't.

Shepard found himself sitting cross-legged on a cold concrete floor. There were men—no kids, sitting to his left and to his right, to his front and his back. In his right hand was an assault rifle standing up on its butt-stock. Shepard was in boot camp. He quickly glanced over to his left and saw that his rack mate Red Stevenson was sitting next to him. He was diligently facing forward while the drill instructor paced back and forth reciting weapons training knowledge to the recruits.

"M2 assault rifle. Max range 5000 meters. Max effective range 1000 meters. Fire rate 600 rounds per minute." The recruits would repeat each statistic after the drill instructor yelled them out. After a while Shepard began reciting the knowledge with the recruits. He continued for what seemed like an eternity, but was more like an hour.

"Clean your weapons slags!" yelled the drill instructor. He surveyed the recruits as they touched the buttons on their weapons to deploy the cleaning gear. Shepard was looking around dumbstruck, still trying to grasp what was going on around him. Out of the corner of his eye he saw the drill instructor had noticed he hadn't deployed his gear yet. Shepard quickly looked down at his weapon and deployed the gear. A chamber on the back of the weapon popped open, and a small satchel containing a brush and some lubricant jutted out. Shepard grabbed the gear and feverishly began scrubbing his rifle with his brush.

"Recruit Shepard!" the drill instructor was directly behind him. _Shit_. Instinctually Shepard set his cleaning gear off to the side, and stood at attention with his weapon against his right leg.

"Sir, yes sir", yelled Shepard. His voice was different. It was so young, clear, and clean.

"Is there a reason why you haven't started cleaning your weapon yet?" questioned the D.I.

"Sir no sir, this recruit has no reason why he hasn't cleaned his weapon yet sir!"

"Well you better get your ass in gear recruit—before I stick a boot up it! You will bring your weapon to me for personal inspection. Do you understand?"

"Sir, yes sir!"

Shepard could feel the drill instructor walk away. He quickly sat down cross-legged again. He grabbed his brush and started scrubbing his rifle. He looked over and saw Red was shaking his head and silently laughing. Red was called "Red" because well—he had red hair. Of course right now his head was shaved like everybody else in the room. He was tall and lanky, and had freckles all over his face.

"What the hell are you doing Shepard?" Red could barely control his laughter.

"Red…when did I get here?"

"A month ago dummy, two more to go. What you losin' your nerve all of a sudden?"

They were both scrubbing their weapons feverishly.

"Did you notice anything weird about today?"

"Besides you getting your ass chewed for being slow? No."

Shepard stared at his weapon as he scrubbed it for a moment pondering his next question. "What year is it?"

There was a pause. "You're kidding right?"

"No Red, what year is it?"

"Twenty-one seventy-two", you could hear how perplexed Red was through his voice. "Do you need to go to med-bay or something?"

"No. Just forget I even asked anything."

"Whatever man."

Shepard finished cleaning his weapon and marched it up to the drill instructor. Even though the D.I. had a white rag, he couldn't find a speck of anything on the rifle. After all Shepard actually had four times as much experience as him—and he knew all the tricks.

That night Shepard lay on the top bunk and Red lay on the bottom in a dark squad bay. _How could this all be in my mind? Did I actually travel back in time? Have I changed anything? Will I ever go back?_ Shepard's thoughts were borderline insanity. His brain could hardly process all of the possibilities. He felt a light tapping on the bottom of his mattress. It was Red. Shepard rolled over and looked down at him.

"What?" whispered Shepard.

"Hey, I made something for you."

"What?"

"Yeah, since you can't remember the year old timer."

Red handed something shiny and metallic to Shepard. It was a dog tag. Shepard held it up to the moonlight coming in from the window and saw that "2172 RED AND SHEP" was neatly carved into one side.

"Just in case you forget."

"Thanks."

Shepard rolled over on his back and replaced one of his old tags with the new one. He stared at the ceiling thinking about the things that he was going to have to experience again. All of the pain of the thresher maw attack on Akuze. _Oh God Red! I saw you get killed on Akuze! I can't bear to see it again. I don't know how I made it the first time. I don't think I can make it again._ Shepard thought about all of those images that haunted him in his sleep. How Red had sacrificed himself for Shepard—his body torn and bloody. A single tear slid down Shepard's cheek as he stared at the ceiling. Shepard closed his eyes and fell asleep.

_Do you love me? _Darkness.

Once again Jack had failed, the path forgotten. She didn't even know what she was looking for anymore. Shepard had just finished making love to her 5 seconds prior; 3 of those seconds she was looking for whatever it was that she was looking for. Shepard blinked 2 seconds after she came back. Shepard had been afforded an eternity of multiple universes and consciousnesses—in under 10 seconds.

He looked into her deep brown eyes. _Brown eyes! Holy shit! What else has changed? Is this real? _Shepard jolted up. She tried to grab him—to embrace him, but he was determined to stand. "I've got to go," he said in a tired, raspy voice. Jack just stared at the floor as he got dressed.

He grabbed his pants quickly and something fell out of the pocket. Jack grabbed it and looked at it before she handed it to Shepard.

"Who's Red?" she asked.

Shepard froze for a moment. Every nerve in his body was firing at the same time. He almost fell over. After a second he put it around his neck and continued to get dressed.

"An old friend."


	3. Poker Face

**CHAPTER THREE**

**POKER FACE**

The dropship made one more pass over the colony. Treetops swung frantically in its wake. So far there wasn't a single soul standing outside—smart. The back of the ship was dark, except for a red light on the bulkhead. The intercom in the passenger compartment crackled to life. "Alright ladies, you know what to do. Dice dealer owes us some money, and word on the street is that he's gotta whole lotta zero."

Story was that this guy named Tony Hawgrood owed Shane's contact a shit ton of money. The guy was a real piece of shit though, so there wasn't much of a chance of him sending a check. The contact told Shane—Shane told Zaeed—and Zaeed got drunk with the other two guys the previous night. Who says finding work is hard?

_Fucking dice._ Zaeed had been seeing more and more of the shit. Seemed like wherever there was a collection of assholes—there was dice. It was good for business though. He had fulfilled almost twice as many contracts over the past two months.

Zaeed figured this one wasn't going to be too bad. He had worked with these other two mercs before. Carlos was human. He was short, stout and mean. He wasn't too bad with a pistol either. Jason was the usual turian: big, well rounded, ugly as fuck, and pretty good with a sniper rifle. They already had done some missions together over past couple years, and so far so good. Well everybody got paid anyway—fuck everything else.

Shane was driving the ship—another human. He wasn't too bad behind the stick of a drop. He was pretty good at keeping Zaeed in the loop too. There was a mutual understanding between the two: let me know if somebody is going to fuck me, or I'll bury you. Well, that was probably more Zaeed's motto—but Shane still wasn't too bad to have around.

As the ship lowered to the ground dirt blew up in a great plume. Vegetation was flattened, and small pieces of debris went flying. The engines on each side rotated until they were pointed toward the ground. Shane applied more throttle. Great blue flames shot out as the engines resonated with a loud roar. The drop ship swayed a bit, and then they were on the ground. Maybe after Shane got some scratch on this mission he could upgrade those damn stabilizers. The back ramp lowered and made a deep thud when it reached the ground. The three mercs filed out.

First one out was Jason. He was a tall, black turian. He had black armor with a yellow stripe running down each side. In his hands he carried a sniper rifle pointed at the ground—finger straight and off of the trigger.

Then came Carlos. He was a short brown-skinned human with a shaved head. He wore red armor, and it looked like his nose had been broken ten too many times. In his right hand was a sizable pistol and on his left leg was a sheathed knife.

Finally, emerging from the depths of the ship like a shark looking for a bite to eat was Zaeed. Zaeed's face looked like that of a scarred moon. A deep gash across his right eye (which was fake and grey), ran down the entire length of his face. His other eye was green—not a good looking green either. He had short brown hair, and wore an old, faded, battle-scarred set of armor. Zaeed was relatively skinny, but given an instant in his presence, you could sense the breadth of his experience, and the rage just below the surface.

You could tell that these three had been doing this for a while. Without a word being said, Carlos and Jason went off to the flanks. All the while they were scanning: left and right, low and high. They weren't in a hurry, and they weren't going slow either—just nice and steady. Zaeed went straight up the middle.

It was a jungle planet. Tall trees surrounded the enclosure that they were walking in. Birds of some sort could be heard in the wilderness. Up ahead, the bunker could barely be seen where it hid in an outcropping of rocks. Whoever lived here didn't want to be found. If you had a dice facility, it was in your best interest to be low-key. Between raiders, junkies, and The Alliance it was a pretty rough go at it. This wasn't exactly a business that you could retire from either. If you were hooked—you were fucked. If you sold to people that were hooked—you were fucked.

The door for the bunker was about fifty meters ahead. _Two pieces of cover—platinum. Ambush point top right. After I get done with this shit I need to get drunk and laid._ Zaeed usually took the front because he had a pretty persuasive manner about him—both in looks and communication. It wasn't a "pleased to meet you" one either. About half way up to the cover the doors began to open. All three mercs kept the same pace. It was a man and a woman. _No weapons—yet. _Zaeed kept his assault rifle pointed to the dirt as he nonchalantly walked up to the pair.

The woman was a sweet little blonde thing. She had clear blue eyes, and nice little pink lips. Her hair was in a ponytail, and she was pale and skinny. She had pretty good tits too. _Oh my God look at that ass!_ Zaeed couldn't wait to get back to Omega so he could buy a hooker…or three. The man on the other hand, was a skinny black haired shit-weasel. Skinnier than the chick, and probably took more dick than her too—fucking punk. Where's the fucking justice in this universe? Both wore normal plainclothes—no armor. Good, that meant that this was going to be a lot easier. Zaeed looked into their eyes. Dilated: you get enough dice in your system and it never really leaves you.

Time to be persuasive.

"I'm going to ask you this once, and once only. Where the fuck is Tony Hawgrood?" Zaeed looked into each of their faces as he asked. The shit-weasel looked at sweet-ass for help. He looked back at Zaeed.

"Look, there ain't any Tony here man," said shit-weasel.

Zaeed looked at the ground for a moment and looked at the blonde bitch. _Fucking shame I've got morals man._ You can learn a lot about somebody when all of the chips are down. Zaeed could grab the girl and try to get the shit-weasel to squeal. But Zaeed could tell that he was a little shit, and that he cared more about the dice than the bitch. Who knows, maybe the bitch even loves the fuck—fucking broads. Besides, Zaeed was going to enjoy this much more. Time to be persuasive.

Zaeed raised his rifle up to the shit-weasel's left kneecap.

"Hey, hey man!" cried shit-weasel.

Zaeed pulled the trigger. The force of the blow threw the boy to the ground. His knee was bent backwards. The chick was screaming hysterically.

"Where the fuck is Tony!" screamed Zaeed.

"We don't know! Oh God we don't know!" screamed sweet-ass. The chick had her hands on her ears and looked at Zaeed with a terror struck gaze. The fuck was staring at his new knee and making unintelligible noises. A hint of smoke was coming off of the wound. It had been mostly cauterized by the round. Bits of white bone, some meat, and a lot of charred debris could be easily seen.

_Time to amp this up_. Zaeed could tell that the chick required a little more persuasion. _Shit, I guess you didn't love this cocksucker after all—good girl._ Zaeed slung his weapon behind his back and stepped over the shit-weasel. The boy still didn't know what the hell was going on, and just stared blankly at Zaeed. Zaeed braced his left foot between the boy's thigh and crotch, and reached down and grabbed the mangled leg. The weasel began to wail in pain.

Nothing.

Zaeed began to twist and pull.

The girl's eyes were wide in disbelief. Earlier that day she had been doing dice, and was being fucked by John. Now she was watching John's leg being torn off. She was screaming as loud as she could. If only this would stop. _Please! _"Stop! Oh please God stop!"

**AND GOD SAID, "WRONG NUMBER BITCH."**

There was a sickening crack, and Zaeed's new toy suddenly got lighter. Shit-weasel pissed himself and passed out. Zaeed was pretty sure he had seen him break that last bit of bone though—good. With a bit of a twist and a nice tug, the leg detached completely. The girl was rocking back and forth on the ground now with tears streaming down her face. She couldn't make a sound. _Man what a nice ass._

"Don't make me beat his brains in with this sweetheart."

She reached into her pocket and threw the keys for the bunker at Zaeed's feet. Zaeed threw shit-weasel's leg off to the side and picked them up. Today was turning out to be good day.

_**TWO YEARS LATER**_

Zaeed sat on his rack sharpening his knife. The small, handheld atomic reorganizer made a crackling noise as he ran it across the blade. The crackling was the sound of millions of atoms being sculpted into a perfect edge, one of incredible sharpness—one that could slice through the best combat armor. Both the knife and Zaeed were old, abused, and tough—a quick look (that is all you would be afforded), and you could tell that they had each taken many a life.

"Perfect," Zaeed said in a grizzled voice, as he carefully set the reorganizer next to him and picked up the sheath. The sheath was black, made of platinum, and had a plasma field inside of it. He carefully slid the knife inside—this is not a knife that you run your thumb against: unless of course, you want to lose it.

He bent down, and pulled out an old green ammo can from underneath his rack. He flipped it open and threw the reorganizer inside. After closing the can, he slid it under his rack, and set the knife on the table next to him.

Zaeed was getting hungry. The chow on this ship was pretty damn good, and it sure as hell beat scrapin' for your next meal. He did miss a good fight though. He walked over to his door and it opened before him. Shit! The elevator doors were closing! "Hey hold up," yelled Zaeed.

No response—must be that crabby bitch Jack. She could be a real cunt at times, but man he bet she was wild in the sack. Not his flavor though: too much Goddamn trouble. Couple hundred credits and you could get a pretty decent whore planetside—or three of the ugly ones.

Zaeed ran over to the elevator and stuck his hand in the motion sensor field. The doors opened again. No shit! It was fucking Shepard. That sly fucking dog! He was in the corner by the controls, and nodded at Zaeed. Zaeed let out a grunt, and nodded back. "Three," said Zaeed. Shepard hit the button. Zaeed looked over and saw that Shepard was going to his quarters. Shepard pretty much only slept in his quarters—and it was much too early for that—but Zaeed had learned early on not to ask too many questions.

After a moment Zaeed could smell the pussy and sweat on Shepard. That son of a bitch! Fucking idiot was in for a world of hurt with that cunt. He couldn't blame him though. He would have taken a piece if she offered. There was something else. Zaeed quickly glanced over at Shepard. Shepard looked away at the controls. _What the fuck?_ Normally Shepard was a fucking boyscout!

They reached the first floor where the chow hall was. The doors opened up, and Zaeed began making his way out. Just as he passed the door he stopped and looked back at Shepard. Shepard's and Zaeed's eyes locked for a moment before Shepard looked away. The doors closed. Zaeed stood there for a moment and looked at the ground thinking. _Could it be? _ It couldn't be anything else—dice.

_Now this is going to be interesting!_


	4. Empty

**CHAPTER 4**

**EMPTY**

Shepard woke to a throbbing headache. His head hurt so much that he could hardly see straight. His mouth was infinitesimally dry. Shepard had a hangover. He got out of his bed and walked over to the sink. Grabbing a glass from overhead he poured himself some water. He drank three glasses. _Wow, I haven't felt like this since the days when Red and I would…_.

Shepard reached down to his chest and grabbed his tags. It was still there. _Was it always there? Is it different, or am I different?_ Shepard couldn't remember, but he seriously doubted that the whole thing could have been a fabrication. All he knew right now is that he felt like shit.

He took a shower and got dressed. He walked over to his personal terminal and checked his messages. Nothing too interesting—everything seemed pretty bland after defeating the Collectors. Shepard thought about what the maw had said. _I should just leave this alone._ But could he? What if the fate of the universe was in his hands—again? Everything that he had experienced was so real. And in a way, what the maw had said made a lot of sense now. _Or is this the dice reasoning with me? _Regardless, Shepard needed to get to the bottom of this. And the only way to figure anything out was to take another dose. One more wouldn't kill him—hopefully. He decided that he was going to have to talk to Jack about getting another dose. Oh yeah, and kill her for getting him into this mess, or fuck her.

Shepard finished getting ready and headed for the elevator. _That's funny, how did that get there?_ There was a datapad laying face down in front of the door. Shepard walked over to it and picked it up. He turned it over and hit the power button. Shepard's heart jumped into his throat.

"**I KNOW"**

Shepard glanced over at his desk and saw what he was afraid of. His personal datapad was still sitting on the desk. Somebody had brought this up while he was asleep. _Zaeed._ It had to be. He was the only one that had seen him except Jack. _That bastard, what the hell does he want from me? Money? _No, Zaeed was much smarter than that. He would know the power that he held over Shepard right now. The stakes were considerable—Captain, Spectre, Cerberus. For the universe being such a big place, it was amazing how fast word got around. If Zaeed wanted to, he could ruin Shepard. Nobody wants to deal with a dicehead. _Fuck!_

Shepard reasoned that he better take care of this one step at a time. Zaeed wasn't some young kid. He knew what he was doing, so he wouldn't jump the gun on this one. That bought Shepard enough time to try the next dose, and see if this was even worth it. Shepard's hangover got ten times worse. He set the datapad next to his and got on the elevator. _Time to go see Jack._

She was sitting in the dark playing a game of solitaire on her rack. It looked like she was about to lose. She looked up at Shepard and quickly resumed her game.

"I need to talk to you," said Shepard. He took his usual position and crossed his arms and leaned against the bulkhead.

"You need to talk to me or do you need to get laid? I told you to stop bullshitting me Shepard."

"I want to talk about yesterday."

"What I wasn't good enough for you? My pussy too big for you? Well, maybe you should get a bigger dick." Jack continued playing her card game. Shepard couldn't help but laugh at Jack's comment. She was always backed into a corner—always fighting.

"I need another dose." Jack stopped playing. She looked up at Shepard for a moment, and looked back down. The game was over, but she couldn't bear to look at Shepard while she talked about this.

"No you don't."

"Just one more Jack. You got me into this. You owe me."

"Look, Shepard I think you're a complete fucking prick, but I still like you. I wouldn't wish what I have to go through on anybody. I'm sorry about yesterday, I just thought…that it was going to be different."

"Jack you don't understand. This IS different."

"Shut the fuck up Shepard. You sound like a fucking junkie."

"I don't need you to understand. I just need one more dose."

"I'm out."

"What?"

"Yeah, I ran out this morning. We're going to have to go to Omega to get more."

"Omega?"

"Yeah."

"Can you schedule a pickup for today?"

"Yeah, they're always open."

"Okay, you get a hold of your contact and I'll tell Joker to take us to Omega." Shepard started walking away."

"Shepard." Jack was looking up at Shepard now. He stopped and didn't look back.

"Yeah?"

"Be careful okay?"

"Okay." Shepard walked off. Jack gathered her cards up and set them on the floor next to her. She grabbed her communicator from her stand and flipped it open. After pressing a few buttons she brought it up to her face.

"The fridge is empty." That was it—the message was over. She closed the communicator and put it back. Jack looked down at her rack. The fridge wasn't the only thing that was empty—she was empty. She reached beside her rack and delicately fingered the latch of her dice box open. There was one more vial. She looked at it for a moment and applied it to her arm. _Do you love me? _Darkness.

Shepard walked over to Zaeed's hatch. He pressed the intercom button. "Yeah," said Zaeed.

"It's Shepard." The door opened up, and Shepard walked in. Zaeed was sitting on his rack sharpening his knife. He glanced up at Shepard, and continued sharpening his blade. "We're going to Omega today," said Shepard.

"Oh yeah? What For?"

"Have to pick up some supplies."

"What kind of supplies?"

"Supplies."

_You're a real son of a bitch Zaeed. I'm not going to let you take me down like this. _The two looked at each other for a moment. It was like two chess champions trying to convince the other that they didn't care about the game—unlikely.

"Just let me know when you need me." Zaeed put his knife in its sheath and set it on his stand. He set the reorganizer next to it. "I'm going to grab some chow. You mind hitting the lights?" Zaeed stood up and brushed past Shepard as he walked out. Shepard fucking hated Zaeed. He was about to hit the lights, when he looked at Zaeed's stand. His knife and reorganizer were sitting side by side.

The elevator doors were about to close when Shepard put his hand in the motion sensor field. The doors opened again and Zaeed was glaring at him. "What the fuck took you so long? I asked you to shut off the lights, not take a fucking nap."

"Two." Shepard wasn't in the mood to talk to assholes right now. Zaeed got off without saying a word. Shepard got off on the second floor, and walked up to the bridge to speak with Joker.

If Joker was anything, he was consistent. Joker had in a way, become the ship. He was more of the Normandy than EDI, and EDI was designed to seamlessly integrate into her systems. Shepard loved Joker because you never had to guess what his motivation was. It was either for the ship—or nothing.

And there he was, sitting in the cockpit with a big grin on his face—big surprise. Shepard walked up and put his hand on Joker's shoulder. Joker didn't even flinch. "I need you to take us to Omega Joker."

"Omega huh? What kind of trouble do we have waiting for us there?"

"Nothing too serious, just need to check up on something." There was a silence as they both stared out at the stars. Shepard knew what Joker was waiting for. He was sure he knew about him and Jack, and was just dying for the details. If it was anybody else on the ship, Shepard would tell them to fuck off—well except Garrus. But Garrus would never ask anyway. Joker was a good friend, but their friendship had a bizarre dynamic to it. It was like Joker was a fixture of the damn ship. What the hell, Joker never got out of the cockpit anyway. So Shepard told him about how wild she was, and how good she felt, and how she had slapped him on the side of the head.

Joker especially liked this last detail, "Oh shit! Man that's a crazy bitch!"

"You have no idea pal," said Shepard. "How long until we get to Omega?"

"About one hour."

"Thanks Joker."

"No problem loverboy." And that was it. Shepard knew that he would never have to worry about Joker talking about it or anything. It was like a confessional with the ship. Shepard checked his personal terminal again, and went back up to his quarters.

_**ONE HOUR LATER**_

"Captain we'll be docking in Omega in 10 minutes." It was Joker over the intercom. Shepard hit the call button.

"Thank you Joker." Shepard grabbed his black and red N7 armor out of his locker. He powered up his visor and put it on.

TESTING…TESTING…TES

+++BOOT CYCLE COMPLETE+++

+++ALL SYSTEMS NOMINAL+++

The text cleared and gave way to 'enhanced vision.' This basically silhouetted all objects that had a definite outline and not only highlighted them (which was excellent for camouflaged enemies, distant objects, or low-light situations), but it also ran them through a vast database of pertinent information. So given the shape, and molecular makeup of an object the visor could usually tell you some very important stuff. It also took real-time bio readings of whatever targets where prioritized. That way you could monitor vitals, or even hear distant conversations_. The things that they come up with nowadays. _

Shepard's weapons were already loaded into their 'ergonomic exchange assembly.' This basically maximized the space on his suit, and guaranteed that a user could carry as many weapons and ammo as possible. It also interfaced with the suit to distribute the weight properly. A full load of gear and Shepard would fall backwards without this! Shepard had a small selector switch on the forearm of his suit where he could 'select' which weapon he wanted. If the weapon he wanted was underneath the other ones, it would rotate to the surface and the outside so it could be easily retrieved. It was very easy to holster these weapons when you were done. Each weapon had unique 'gravity points' which corresponded with their specific weapon slot. So they pretty much put themselves away, you just needed to get it back there.

Shepard walked over to the docking hatch. Jack and Zaeed were already waiting. They knew better than to start up with a conversation, because it would end with a fight. The Normandy shook as the receiving arms gently grabbed the hull and brought her in. The walkway made a buzzing noise as it extended to the ship. It made a slight bumping noise, and then you could hear it seal. The light above the hatch turned green.

"After you," said Shepard as he gestured the two toward the hatch. All three entered the walkway, and Shepard hit the button behind him. The door of the Normandy closed. A thin blue decontamination ray first passed through the chamber horizontally, then vertically. After its last pass, a green light lit up on the dock side, and the hatch opened.

"Decontamination complete, welcome to Omega," said a cheery female voice.


	5. Omega

**Chapter 5**

**Omega**

Shepard took a deep breath as he walked into the docking area. It smelled like an ungodly combination of pollution, excrement, and sex. But hell, Omega was the only place in the universe where you could watch a Varren fuck an Asari for twenty credits. Every planet has its local charms.

According to Jack their contact was to be found in the Afterlife Club. This was fine by Shepard because he could sure use a drink. His mind was still a little hazy, and he needed something to level him out. Zaeed hadn't said a single word to him after they docked. This was fine by Shepard. They left the confines of the docking area, and walked out into the main deck of the transit hub.

Omega never changed. There were no seasons—not even a night or a day. It was always dark, and even if you weren't up to anything, you felt like you were—guilt by association I guess. Today, there was the usual collection of deadbeats lining the walls. It was a mishmash of the homeless (most of which were mentally ill), crooks (waiting to pounce on unsuspecting travelers—of course you would have to be a real idiot to go to Omega unprepared), and hookers (most of which were asari, but there were humans and a couple quarians too). If you wanted a quarian you had better be ready to shell out some real credits. This selection was for the uninitiated of course. You had a much better selection and better prices down by the markets.

Jack led the way toward The Afterlife. Shepard was behind her watching her ass. _Man I should have fucked her earlier today_. And Zaeed was eyeing up the work standing against the wall. A quarian walked up to Zaeed and grabbed his hand. "You want a good time sweetheart? I've got twenty minutes if you've got the money." Volus pimps would seek out quarians in the early stages of their pilgrimage—before they knew any better. The little bastards would ask for technical assistance on their ships, and shanghai the poor broads before they knew what hit them. Then they would pump them full of dice, or whatever they had handy and install kill switches on the quarian's suits. It was a damn shame and Zaeed didn't know how a quarian could be stupid enough to trust a volus, but he couldn't complain too much. He had scraped up enough about five years back to get himself a quarian, and he found out why they cost so much. It was amazing. People are always chasing after asari—no sir, quarian is where it was at.

Jack looked back at Zaeed and yelled, "Zaeed! Keep it in your fucking pants!"

He reluctantly let go of the quarian's hand and said, "Maybe some other time sweety." The hookers on Omega were the closest thing that Zaeed had ever found to love. So what if most didn't approve of what they did for a living? It wasn't as if he had that noble of a career. It was like they were made for each other. Zaeed turned around and caught up to Shepard and Jack. Jack rolled her eyes and continued on toward The Afterlife.

"Fucking bitch," said Zaeed under his breath.

"What?" asked Jack.

"Nothing."

Shepard chuckled under his breath. The tunnel of The Afterlife was a long tunnel adorned with bright digital flames all throughout its interior. They even turned the heat up to enhance the ambiance. All Shepard knew was that it was annoying as hell, and he was fucking hot already. As they advanced forward, three batarians sitting off to the side stood up and blocked their way. Bad move. Shepard had a throbbing headache. Zaeed just had to give up on a quarian hooker. And Jack, well Jack was just always pissed off.

The batarian said, "Hey you got a problem?" Shepard hated batarians to begin with, not to mention asshole batarians. For one, they were ugly as fuck—and two they stunk like shit. This wasn't going to end good for the batarian.

"What the fuck did you just say to me?" Shepard was the first one to engage in conversation.

"Ah…I thought you were somebody else." All three batarians seemed to be rattled already. They looked at each other and turned to walk out of the tunnel.

"I don't fucking think so," chimed in Jack, as she used pull to throw them all on their asses. Zaeed was still pissed about not getting his dick wet—sorry batarians.

"Looks like you boys are in a little over your heads aye? How about a little proposition? You give me all your credits and guns, and I don't fucking beat you to death." Zaeed looked at Shepard and Jack. They both nodded in approval.

The batarian tried to speak, "Look, I think there's…" and Zaeed punched him in the top left eye with a lightening blow. It swelled shut almost immediately, and was bleeding badly too. They started unloading all of their gear and credits and setting it in a pile. "Hurry the fuck up, we don't have all fucking day," said Zaeed.

Okay, so Shepard didn't hate Zaeed ALL of the time, just most of it. After the batarians unloaded all of their shit, they sat and looked at the three waiting for further direction. "What the fuck are you waiting for? Get the fuck out of here!" yelled Shepard. They turned around and scampered out of the doors. The weapons were pretty much useless, but they could be sold for credits. Zaeed grabbed the credit chits.

"Not bad, 5,000 credits between the three," said Zaeed in a surprised tone.

"You buying shots?" asked Shepard.

"Nope, I'm going to buy me that fucking quarian," said Zaeed as he started walking for the exit.

"Hey what the fuck Zaeed, what if we need your help?" asked Shepard. Zaeed didn't even turn around. He just gave Shepard the finger and kept on walking. Shepard fucking hated Zaeed again. He looked at Jack.

"I can't believe that fucking asshole," said Jack.

"Whatever, let's just get this shit over with"

They turned and headed into The Afterlife.

The air was nice and cool as they entered, and Asari women were dancing on tables throughout the place. Shepard felt better already. The music had a lot of bass, and it was loud—but not too loud. Jack led them straight to the bar, where the bartender was a female human. "What's going on you two? What can a get you?" asked the bartender.

"Two Terminus Bombs," said Shepard. He couldn't wait for this. His head had been hurting all day and this was going to feel good.

"Ten credits please." Shepard paid and handed a drink to Jack. They touched glasses and downed the drinks. It looked like Jack had been waiting for a drink all day too.

"Okay, we're looking for a salarian named Jalepi," Jack said in a hushed tone as she was scanning the scene. It took only about a second, because Jalepi was sitting across the way fidgeting around and nervously talking to patrons as they walked by.

"Jesus. Talk about drawing attention to yourself. Why the fuck would they pick a salarian for that kind of job?" asked Shepard.

"Think about it—that's the perfect cover. Salarians always seem like they are geeked out on something. So who would suspect that one actually would be?"

"You've got a pretty good point." Jack and Shepard walked over to Jalepi's booth. They sat down on the side opposite of him.

"Jack, who's your friend you didn't say anything about any company this is a most unfavorable turn of events how are you?" Shepard stared at the salarian, and marveled at the genius of his cover.

"Take it easy Jalepi. This is Shepard, and he's fucking cool. Look, I didn't come down here to fucking chat and have drinks. You got the shit?"

"One case just as promised we'll have to go to a different location of course it is not in here it is not wise to bring certain merchandise inside The Afterlife everything is good if you have the money."

"Yeah, I've got the money. Fifteen thousand credits. Let's go get the shit." Jalepi looked around in a way only a manic, diced out salarian could—and started heading for the exit. Jack and Shepard waited a few seconds and followed behind him.

_**20 MINUTES EARLIER**_

Zaeed knew exactly why they were on Omega. He'd have to be a fucking idiot not to. And although the thought of buying that quarian for twenty minutes was tempting, he thought of a much better use for those five thousand credits. It just so happened that Jason, his black turian friend, happened to hail from Omega. And even better, Jason coincidentally was home at the moment. Jason had connections to a lot of different markets on Omega—even dice markets. So if Zaeed were to say, put five thousand credits down, Jason might be able to rally a couple of friends together. And if Zaeed were to signal on his communicator exactly where this little drug deal was to take place, and let Jason and his friends waltz right in, he could hit pay dirt. Not only do they get the drugs, which Jason could sell, but Zaeed might accidentally record this botched transaction. A transaction that he could honestly say he didn't have anything to do with. Now, instead of Zaeed flapping his lips and saying that Shepard was a dice head, he'd have proof. Proof enough to motivate Shepard to do whatever the fuck he wanted. The thought of having a ship the size of the Normandy gave Zaeed goose bumps. He could have a harem of quarians!

Jack and Shepard emerged from The Afterlife and walked over to where Zaeed was standing. "Well we ready to leave yet?" asked Zaeed.

"No we have to make one more stop—unless of course you're too busy," Shepard said sarcastically.

_Thank God—I didn't see an errand boy come out of the club before them. I would have been pissed if I had just wasted those five thousand credits._

"No, I've done what I needed to do," said Zaeed as he looked over at the quarian.

"Was she worth it?" asked Shepard.

"Every credit mate."

Jack received a message on her communicator, and she hailed a taxi. After a ten minute ride, it was apparent where they were going—the warehouse district.

_This might be a better score than I thought. We might get the whole fucking pot!_

They got off of the taxi, and Shepard tipped the driver. Shepard looked around and surveyed where he was at. It was a dark, green warehouse surrounded by many other warehouses. All in all, the scenery was pretty shitty, but that could describe just about any locale on Omega. The salarian was standing in front of the security doors pacing back and forth. As the trio approached him, he spoke.

"Jack what the fuck your party seems to be growing exponentially I do not like this Serj will not like this."

"Calm the fuck down Jalepi. He's just here for some extra muscle. We've got just as much in this as you do."

"I'm failing to see how your stake is remotely similar to mine."

At that Jalepi turned around and punched the code into the security door. It opened up and he walked in. The party of three followed with Zaeed lagging just a little behind. He had already signaled Jason, and he'd already seriously dampened Jack's biotics—oops. It was called an "antibiotic." This was no shot of penicillin though. It was a tiny device which could be placed on an individual's clothing. In this case Zaeed put it on Jack's boot when he "dropped" his lighter while in the cab. The antibiotic was an ingenious design in that it "closed" the circuit of one's biotics. When the individual would try to use their biotics it would merely jump to their next implant, and so on. This would encapsulate the user in a type of biotic field, much like some sort of force field. So the user's biotics would consequently drain themselves, and eventually the user would use all of their resources. Zaeed had used this handy little device once before, and it looked like it hurt like hell—but Jack was a fucking bitch so he didn't really care.

He had a plan for Shepard too—the N7 hack tool app on his communicator. _You can find some amazing shit on the black market!_ All of those sweet ass electronics on Shepard's suit and visor would be completely useless. That nice little data link that Shepard's visor had with its database left a door open for Zaeed's hack tool. All Zaeed needed to do was activate the app, and pretend like he didn't know what the fuck was going on. Shepard wouldn't be able to walk, much less draw a weapon. Oh yeah—one last detail. He waited for the salarian and the two shmucks to get ahead and unlocked the security door—that should do it.

They rounded the corner of a short hallway, and walked into a massive room containing thousands of crates. The salarian wove his way to the back of the bay until he got to a large red crate. He knocked on the door three times and it popped open. The salarian slipped inside, and closed the door behind him. There was a sound at the front door of the warehouse

_Shit! They're fucking early!_

Jack, Shepard, and Zaeed looked at each other and quickly got behind cover. Zaeed hit the button on his communicator activating his app.

+++Danger Unauthorized User+++

++_+(*(*&*&%^#%$#%#*_+) &(*&*^&^%^%$%&(&(

Before Shepard could even say a word he fell on his ass. "What the fuck? I just lost power! My fucking suit just lost power!"

Jack looked over at Shepard. There was nothing she could do for him at this point. She had better take care of the threat at hand. A huge black turian came in. He was followed by a tall human, and a krogan. All three enemies appeared to be using shields.

"Zaeed," Jack whispered from behind her cover, "I'm going to wait until they get into the open and blast them with shockwave."

"Okay, I'll be ready." This was going to be fucking great.

They kept on advancing with weapons drawn. They were obviously not there to visit. Shepard did nothing but watch Jack and Zaeed behind his cover. He desperately tried to reboot his system—nothing.

The enemies entered the clearing directly ahead. Jack popped up and let a shockwave loose—on herself. Her biotic powers surged through her own body. It was the most painful thing that she had ever experienced. It felt like she had just been thrown into the drive core of the Normandy. Jack fell to the ground, screaming in agony. Zaeed laughed as he stood up and waved his arms.

"Glad you could make it boys. We've got to get this crate open. Our little salarian friend locked himself inside with the goods. Shouldn't be a problem for you Shane," Zaeed said as he walked over to Shepard. Shepard didn't say anything. He just glared at Zaeed. "Problems with the suit ole boy?" jested Zaeed as he put restraining cuffs on him. Zaeed propped both Jack and Shepard against a crate. Jack was barely conscious. Shepard couldn't believe that he had allowed Zaeed to trick him. Damnit! He knew Zaeed was a bastard, but not this fucking cunning! The mercs began working on the crate door, and were joking around with each other.

_Think Shepard think! You need to restore your systems!_ Shepard cleared his head and surveyed his surroundings. Well for starters, his system had obviously been hacked. Whoever had hacked him still had a connection with his computer. In order for him to restore his systems he would have to disrupt that connection by rebooting. That was easier said than done. He looked over at Jack and saw that she had passed out from the pain. He'd seen this tactic used before. That son of a bitch Zaeed had without a doubt, put an antibiotic on her at some point. Now the trick was finding it. The bad thing about antibiotics was that they needed to be within an inch of their victim. If they weren't they were completely useless. Shepard began examining Jack as she lay there. Then he thought about the taxi ride on the way over. Zaeed was fucking around with his lighter and dropped it by her feet. Why was Zaeed messing around with his lighter? You couldn't smoke in a taxi, even one on Omega.

"What's the matter Shepard? You sure don't have a lot to say. Don't worry we'll save you some dice. In fact I'm going to give you and your misses one on the house for my little video that I'm making. It sure would be a shame if the council saw one of their Spectres doing dice wouldn't it?" Zaeed laughed, and started joking with his merc friends again.

After Zaeed looked away, Shepard began examining Jack's boots. It had to be her boots! After a couple of seconds searching, he found it. The antibiotic was small and black. There would be no way of seeing it if you weren't looking for it. He inched his leg over to hers and began rubbing the bottom of his boot against it. Jack regained consciousness. The antibiotic fell to the ground.

"Wha..?" Jack was in a daze yet.

"Shhhh. I need you to listen to me very carefully." Shepard paused and looked up at the mercs. They were still working on the door.

"Zaeed put an antibiotic on you to short circuit your biotics. I know that you hurt really bad right now, but I need you to do something for me."

Shepard looked across the way and suddenly had second thoughts about the plan he had just formulated. There was a huge power cable plugged into the opposite wall. Even though Jack was severely weakened, her pull biotic would be strong enough to unplug the cable and bring it over to their side—bring it over to their side, and shock the living shit out of Shepard. Although it was going to hurt like hell, and possibly kill Shepard, the shock would also be powerful enough to reboot Shepard's suit and break the connection with the hacktool—hopefully. _Fuck it._

While keeping an eye on the mercs, Shepard whispered the plan to Jack. She knew that this was their only chance too—and she couldn't wait to fuck Zaeed's ass up. They both surreptitiously glanced over at the mercs one more time, and looked back at the cable.

"Hold on," whispered Jack. She gave it everything she had. Her body hurt was gripped in pain, and she was utilizing every ounce of energy that remained. The cable whipped across, and made contact with Shepard's midsection. There was a great blast of sparks. Shepard pissed himself, but retained consciousness. The suit took a tenth of a second to reboot, and then began protecting him against the electricity. Shepard's restraints overloaded and fell off.

TESTING…TESTING…TES

+++BOOT CYCLE COMPLETE+++

+++ALL SYSTEMS NOMINAL+++

Shepard jumped to his feet. He activated adrenaline rush. Shepard was now moving ten times faster than anything around him. This was achieved through a combination of mental conditioning, chemicals injected into his nervous system, and his suit amping up his speed and power. All four mercs were already facing him and bringing their weapons up. The black turian did a quick draw with his sniper rifle. He fired a round. Shepard ducked to his left and avoided the round by centimeters. It burned the skin on his face as the round passed. Shepard swung around and threw the power cable as hard as he could at the turian. The contacts broke through the turian's armor and imbedded into his flesh. He immediately burst into flames. Shepard swooped down grabbed Jack by the arm. He jumped over the nearby cover and broke her restraints. Shepard quickly removed Zaeed from the squad list and activated unity. You could see the life surge back into Jack—she was pissed.

The krogan let out a great battle cry and began charging. Jack popped up and used shockwave. It slammed into the krogan with immense power, and stopped him in his tracks. Shepard was going to have to be quick. His adrenaline rush had almost run its course and he would need it for this. From a crouch behind the cover, he jumped with all of his might. This propelled him into a sort of cartwheel about eight feet in the air. As he was rotating he selected his weapon: shotgun—incendiary ammo. Shepard landed about three feet behind the krogan—who had just enough time to look down the barrel of Shepard's shotgun. Shepard pulled the trigger and the top half of the krogan's head was blown off. He swung back around and prepared for Zaeed. The adrenaline rush had worn off. Everything was running at normal speed for Shepard again. Where was Zaeed?

"You know Shepard, we could have avoided this whole fucking thing." Zaeed was behind Shepard. He was behind Jack and had his blade up to her throat. "But no. You had to go and be a fucking boyscout, just like you always do. Well I've got news for you—boyscouts don't do fucking dice."

He kept a low profile behind Jack—Shepard couldn't get off a shot. Jack wasn't moving a muscle. She had seen how sharp Zaeed's blade was before. The slightest flinch and she wouldn't have a fucking head anymore—and she knew Zaeed wouldn't hesitate to do it.

"So what do you say ole boy? How about I don't cut your fucking girlfriend's head off, and we part ways?"

"Do it," said Shepard dispassionately. He didn't flinch. Jack couldn't believe what she was hearing. So what if fucking Zaeed got away! She couldn't believe this fucking asshole!

"I'm only going to offer you this one more fucking time boyscout! I'm going to cut her fucking head off!"

"Fuck you!" screamed Jack.

"Fucking do it!" screamed Shepard.

Zaeed ran the blade across Jack's throat. She let out a gasp and fell to the floor. Shepard looked at Zaeed with a stoic face.

_**EARLIER THAT DAY**_

"Just let me know when you need me." Zaeed said as he put his knife in its sheath and set it on his stand. He set the reorganizer next to it. "I'm going to grab some chow. You mind hitting the lights?" Zaeed stood up and brushed past Shepard as he walked out. Shepard fucking hated Zaeed. He was about to hit the lights, when he looked at Zaeed's stand. His knife and reorganizer were sitting side by side.

Shepard looked over and made sure that Zaeed had cleared the room. He quickly grabbed the reorganizer and dialed through the settings. Right now it was set to the "blade" setting. He scrolled over until he got to "blunt". He unsheathed the knife and ran it through the reorganizer. It only took one pass. Shepard tested it with his thumb. It was as dull as an elcor's personality. He knew Zaeed wouldn't have enough time to check his knife before they docked either. And just to be safe, he would "misplace" the reorganizer until they got back. He put it into his pocket and set the knife back on the stand. _Your move Zaeed, Your move._

The elevator doors were about to close when Shepard put his hand in the motion sensor field. The doors opened again and Zaeed was glaring at him. "What the fuck took you so long? I asked you to shut off the lights, not take a fucking nap."

Jack was crying on the floor. She had never come so close to dying before in her life. Zaeed stared at his blade with a dumbstruck look on his face. Shepard advanced to within a couple of feet of Zaeed, and leveled his shotgun on his head.

**AND GOD SAID, "LEAVE YOUR NAME AND NUMBER AFTER THE SHOTGUN BLAST…BITCH."**

Shepard pulled the trigger.

+++Zaeed Massani-DECEASED

Shepard walked over to Jack and helped her up. She was still crying. There was still one merc missing. _He must have locked himself in the crate._

"Come on. Let's get the this over so we can go home," Shepard said as he kissed Jack on the forehead. They walked up to the crate.


	6. Immortal

**IMMORTAL**

Garrus was an exceptional chess player. He had used his hard looks, and his big size to deceive many an opponent in a number of contests before, and the young ensign sitting across the table from him was no exception.

As his victim picked up his bishop, he looked up at Garrus's face, and thinking better of it, se the piece back down in its original place. Then he grabbed his rook, twirling it around in his fingers, he looked up at him again. Slightly amused, Garrus looked at him with sympathetic eyes and let out a sigh. The young ensign focused on the board intensely for ten seconds, put the rook back down and quickly moved his bishop.

"Is that your move?" asked Garrus.

The young man shot quick stare at what he had just done, and not seeing any possible flaw in his strategy, he confidently looked into Garrus's eyes and said, "Bishop takes rook, that's my move."

The young ensign might not have seen any flaws in his strategy, but he also hadn't spent two years in a POW camp with nothing but a chessboard and an occasional bowl of rice on the far side of Terminus system. Garrus truly had appreciated the compassion of his captors, not only for the comfort and agility that the chessboard had brought to his mind, but also for the wonderful weapon that he was able to construct out of the queen over the course of those two years.

It did take a great deal of coaxing to get that poor hapless guard to enter his cell, but what good plan doesn't take a time and effort? Life is just like a game of chess. You want to know your opponents move before they even do. When you gain the ability to control your adversary like that, the game is no longer just _a_ game anymore: it's _your_ game.

Every day when the guard would come to his cell, he would have Garrus move a piece for him. The guard wasn't exactly the brightest guy in the universe, but his clever captive made it a point to let him win each and every time. Not only did Garrus let his dimwitted captor win for two years straight, but he made it seem like the guard's intellect was so incredible that he couldn't comprehend how he had defeated him. Yet, even with his seemingly endless amount of patience, this ruse was beginning to annoy the shit out of Garrus after two years; so he was quite happy when his "queen of death" as he liked to call it, was finally finished.

Along with providing a weapon to aid in his prisoner's escape in the form of a very solid chess piece, his captor in all of his infinite wisdom had allowed Garrus to use the white pieces, white pieces that conveniently possessed the same hue of white as the rice that was occasionally brought to his cell. So as his queen began looking more and more like a shank, Garrus would simply chew the rice up into a paste and use it to restore the lady to its original form. Like a hapless mouse stumbling into a trap, this poor fellow didn't have the slightest clue what lie in wait for him, but instead of this trap being baited with cheese it was baited with pride and a false sense of superiority. _The game now belonged to Garrus._

It was on exactly the two year mark that he decided to make his move. Well, he had decided to make the move about a year and eleven months prior, but it had taken him that long to get ready. Not only were the chess pieces exceptionally hard and difficult to shape, Garrus had also wanted to make sure that the guards ego was inflated to ridiculous proportions. _The bigger they are the harder they fall._

Garrus could remember the day that he defeated his adversary with crystalline clarity. It was a day just like all of the others that had preceded it. He could sense the time was nearing for his bowl of rice and chess "lesson." He surveyed the board one last time and calmly sat down in the chair that was bolted down to the floor behind the table that was bolted down in front of it. Garrus had run this scenario through his mind a thousand times over the course of the last two years: he knew his enemies move, he knew his move, he knew his enemy's reaction. The game now belonged to him.

When the time came, he could hear the sliding of metal behind him. It was a small portal built into the door just big enough to fit his bowl of rice and for the guard to lecture him from the other side. They had gone through this ritual 699 times before. The guard would open the hatch and either Garrus or the guard would tell the other what his move was depending on whose turn it was. The guard would move the pieces on his datapad and Garrus would move the pieces on the board. It was Garrus's turn today.

Garrus had already sacrificed two rooks and a bishop leading up to this point and he wasn't finished yet. His next move was going to deliberately expose his queen. The guard slipped the bowl of rice into his cell. He stood staring at Garrus for a moment waiting for him to speak. Garrus stared intently at the board.

"Let's go Garrus I don't have all day."

"Queen F6—check."

The guard moved the pieces on his datapad and looked back up smiling.

"Knight takes queen at F6."

Garrus slowly moved the knight over and grabbed his queen, gently setting it off to the side. He sat staring at the board for a moment and then spoke.

"Bishop E7—checkmate."

The guard quickly looked down at his datapad. His frantic searching soon found its way back up to the figure of Garrus sitting at the table between him and the board. The guard spoke as he began unlocking the heavy metal door.

"That can't be right. That isn't right. Let me see. I'll show you."

Garrus already had his queen in his hand and was peeling its sheath of rice off of it. He could hear the guard's footsteps quickly approaching.

"That can't be right. See I'll show you."

The guard stopped next to the table and looked down at the board in the dim light. He looked at his datapad again. Then back at the board. He could see the shock evolving in the guard's eyes. Garrus was thoroughly enjoying this.

"You cheated! You fucking cheated! You fucking….Ahhh," spat the pathetic guard as he knocked the pieces off of the board and all across the cell.

Garrus didn't move a muscle.

"What do you have to say for yourself cheater? Huh, how 'bout it you cheating motherfucker?"

He slowly looked up at the guard.

"Checkmate."

"What?"

At that moment Garrus lunged up at the unsuspecting guard with his queen in hand, precisely piercing the soft flesh behind the man's jaw and blasting his way into the guard's brain cavity. The guard convulsed for a good ten seconds before he was dead.

"**QUEEN TAKES DUMBFUCK"**

Garrus quickly searched the guard's body and was delighted to find a security key to not only get out of the cell block, but also one to gain access to the hangar. As he flew away in his newly acquired transport ship, the small detention center exploded in a spectacular display of power and destruction. It had been a difficult two years for him, but he knew that the lessons that he had learned during that time would prove to be invaluable.

The young ensign looked intently at him from across the table. Garrus reached down and casually moved his pawn from E4 to E5, nonchalantly blocking the defense of the ensign's king with the least powerful piece on the board. The trap was set and the boy didn't know that he was walking right into it. Garrus patiently waited for the next move.


	7. Thicker than Water

**CHAPTER 7**

**Thicker than Water**

In a dark alley, on a dark asteroid, in a very dark universe…

Lola was worried. Having been a hooker on Omega for the past thirty years she had seen johns of all shapes and sizes—rich ones, lonely ones, pricks…pricks with little pricks, hell, even a nice one on occasion, but the moment this crew rolled up to her and her girls she knew she was in trouble. There was five of them: a turian, a human, and two vorcha taking turns holding a thick rusty chain attached to a very, very big varren. The human was obviously the leader, and he was wearing a set of pockmarked and scarred black body armor, with scraggly black hair, matted and otherwise shooting off in every direction that wasn't. He had half a beard on his weathered and beaten face, and his teeth were rotting out of his mouth. The guy obviously had stopped giving a fuck a long time ago, which being an asari courtesan on Omega, Lola had seen her fair share, but when she got a look into that cold green stare of his she knew she was in trouble.

The girls had been talking about some big commotion that had happened in the warehouse district all day, and an even bigger bounty on the head of the party involved, but she hadn't ever seen this many mercs flooding into Omega before. She figured this particular band of assholes was looking for information more than a quick fuck, but sometimes those were worse. T'Ani, one of her best quarian girls, had been seen talking to one of the mercs yesterday and hadn't been seen since, there were rumors floating around that she might have had something to do with, or known something about what went down at the warehouses. Lola hoped for the best.

As the crew approached Lola had told the other girls to scram, a young human named Kelsea refused to leave her side. So young. So stupid. The mercs fanned out and backed the girls into the wall. They looked like serious characters, they definitely weren't drunk, and all had flat expressions except for the human. He stared at Lola with a piercing glare for a good ten seconds before cracking a crooked black-toothed grin. One of the vorcha throttled the rusty chain with a clank, and the varren let out a deep rumble of a growl and effortlessly started pulling him across the pavement and toward the girls. The other vorcha kicked the varren in the ribs, and it snapped at him, barely missing his leg. Without taking his penetrating gaze off of Lola, the human yelled what was presumably the varren's name.

"Grinder!"

The varren sat down immediately. Lola couldn't handle the awkward silence anymore.

"Can we help you boys with some…"

"Shut up." The human was the only one that spoke. The others just watched Lola and Kelsea with a sort of half-interest, kicking around debris on the ground and looking back at the entrance to the alleyway on occasion. There was no one there. The human advanced and rested his massive hand against the wall above Lola's shoulder. He reeked of body odor, bowel movements, booze, women, and death.

"I'm looking for information." Kelsea swallowed hard and looked at the varren. At least she knew enough to keep her mouth shut.

"Oh yeah, what kin…" The merc slapped Lola hard across the face almost knocking her to the ground. Kelsea gasped and reached to help her, but the merc slammed the girl back against the wall before she could. Lola stood straight up again and looked down at the varren. It was snarling and slobbering in a rabid frenzy. The rusty chain had worn the fur off in patches around its neck and the beast's muscular body was covered with scars. The merc brought his face down to Lola's like he was going to kiss her. His breath stank so bad Lola thought she was going to vomit. She closed her eyes. Kelsea was beginning to cry.

"You _will _speak _when I_ permit you to speak. Do you understand?" The man's breath was hot on Lola's face and his spittle ran down her chin. She carefully nodded, showing her willingness to comply. It was the only way they were going to make it out of this alley alive.

"Good. Now, I'm sure you're aware of the happenings down in the warehouse district yesterday?" Lola gave a subtle nod. "Very good. See how easy this is?" Lola nodded and Kelsea let out a muffled sob. The human looked down at the frightened girl with pure disgust before getting in Lola's face again. "Now, we've been down to the warehouse. In fact, we searched that place high and low, and do you know what we found whore?" Lola shook her head indicating that she didn't. "We found nothing but a bunch of dead bodies, a sealed crate containing some asshole so whacked out on dice he couldn't speak anymore, and this…"

The merc reached back with his left hand and snapped his fingers. The turian stepped forward and placed something in his gnarled grip. "We found this." The merc shoved the object in Lola's face and she slowly looked down. It was a Kroveg Cube, a tiny one inch cube used to pass the time and keep your mind sharp, just a toy really, a toy that quarians were known to have a certain affinity toward, one of those quarians being T'Ani. The varren rustled its chain. The merc watched Lola's and Kelsea's expression, running his tongue across the front of his scum layered teeth. Kelsea looked away, and Lola didn't so much as flinch. So he continued.

"Now, having been in the business for a while, and knowing a number of the fuckheads who were killed, I figured that this little cube belonged to an outside party." The merc raised his shaggy black eyebrows in an inquisitive jest. "Maybe a witness?" He scanned between Lola and Kelsea. The young human looked like she was going to pass out. The merc tossed the Kroveg Cube back to the turian and rested his chin on the top of Lola's head and began to whisper. "I know, that you know, the quarian that the cube belongs to. I've been asking around all over town so don't even try to fucking tell me that you don't know what I'm talking about."

The merc backed away from the wall waiting for an answer.

"I don't know where she is."

"What was that?"

"I know the girl, but I don't know where she is." The merc playfully put his hand up to his ear.

"I'm sorry, I don't think I heard you right. One more time please."

"She's been mi…" Before Lola could finish, the merc landed a hard hook to the side of her head, knocking her down to the ground. Through the haze induced by the blow, Lola could hear the varren barking and snarling and Kelsea hyperventilating. The merc was standing over her screaming.

"Did I give you permission to speak? Well? Did I bitch?" The merc's pale green eyes were ablaze and Lola knew the only hope she had was to keep silent. She didn't have the information that this sadistic lunatic wanted to hear, and she'd surely end up dead if she lied to him. All she had to do was hold on, and maybe _they_ would figure it out and move on. Then, just like the flick of a switch, the merc's expression changed to one of concern and his tone was that of tenderness.

"Maybe you're just scared. Maybe you need a familiar face to talk to." Lola did nothing.

"Yeah that's it." The merc looked back at the rest of his crew, and tenderly said, "Felix, can you help me get a familiar face for her to talk to?" One of the vorcha nodded and grabbed Kelsea. She started kicking and screaming, but the vorcha was much too strong for her.

"No!" The merc put his big black boot on the side of Lola's head, locking it in place, so she could watch the coming events unfold.

"Oh you're going to like this."

"No! No! No! No!"

The vorcha pinned the young girl against the wall and smashed the palm of his hand under her chin, forcing her to look straight up.

"No! No!" Lola was screaming and writhing on the ground under the merc's boot. Dirt and garbage was smudged across her face and in her mouth. The varren snapped its jaws together. The turian took a small blade out of its sheath and walked over to where the vorcha had the girl pinned. With careful precision he made a shallow cut under her chin, following her jaw line, from ear to ear. Kelsea passed out as the blood began to flow and Lola was too horrified to make a sound. When the turian was finished carving, he replaced the blade in its sheath and helped the vorcha lay the girl flat on her back. The merc adjusted Lola's head so she could watch. The turian reached down and grabbed the innocent young girl's spindly legs and the vorcha sat down on the pavement above Kelsea's head facing her. He dug his claws deep into the incision under her throat, under the flap of skin, and being mindful not to penetrate the flesh, he calmly placed his feet on her shoulders, and to the indescribable horror of Lola, began pulling in the opposite direction as the turian, and subsequently, began to tear off her face. The varren began to howl and the merc began to laugh. Lola wet herself.

The vorcha had to tug hard at first, but once he crested the chin and got more leverage, the face presented itself rather easily. As he pulled, it made the sound that you might expect from peeling duct tape from a side of beef, exposing raw flesh, and the occasional burst capillary. When he reached the mouth, he gave it another tug, and it came off with a pop. This was enough to wake Kelsea from her shock induced coma, she began convulsing and screaming at a level that Lola had no way of computing. Her mind shut down. The merc got an erection.

Having had enough fun exfoliating the girl's face, the vorcha pulled hard until it detached at the top of her head with a snap that one might hear from a snapping rubber band. Kelsea was kicking her feet and shrieking. The vorcha tossed the face over to the merc. He put it over his own and knelt down by Lola. She could hear his muffled laughing behind her friend's face, and his green eyes shone through the deformed eye holes.

"How do you like me now?" He was laughing. Lola had lost all use of her faculties. She could only observe, helplessly, what was taking place around her. Kelsea was screaming and choking on her own blood and vomit. The vorcha let the varren loose. It bounded over to the girl, grabbed onto her foot, drug her into the alleyway for a ways, and then enveloped her head with its jaws. It clamped down, and a loud audible crack could be heard when her skull was crushed. The beast let out a howl and so did the merc behind the dead skin mask. Kelsea's blond hair was wisping about like it was attached to his own head. He stuck his blackened tongue through the mask, piercing the dead rubbery lips, and forced it into Lola's mouth.

Even though the merc, otherwise known as Rak Massani throughout the galaxay, was pissed about his little brother Zaeed being killed, this trip was shaping out to be alright. He figured the little twerp probably did something really stupid to get his ass killed anyway, and besides, the bounty on Shepard and that Jack bitch was huge. _Thanks bro_.


	8. Jack in the Box

**CHAPTER 8**

**Jack in the Box**

Thane grabbed his datapad and made his way out onto the mess deck. Garrus was playing chess with an ensign. It looked like the young man had just gotten his clock cleaned by the seasoned warrior, and asked for another game. It would have to wait. Thane approached Garrus and lightly touched his shoulder, leaning down so the ensign couldn't hear what he was saying. Time was of the essence, Thane didn't need more obstacles in his way, and he figured the ensign, along with the rest of the ship would find out soon enough anyway. Garrus looked up at his friend, and Thane began to speak.

"We've got a situation."

"Bad?"

"Yeah."

Garrus looked over at the ensign sitting across from him with eager anticipation. "Game's going to have to wait kid. I want you to go into the archives and look up the Immortal Game. I think it was in 1851 if I'm not mistaken." The young man quickly took his datapad out and jotted down some notes. Garrus started walking hurriedly away from the table, but after a couple of steps he stopped and turn around. "Hey kid." The ensign looked up from his notes. "Learn that stuff and be prepared to live it. Sacrifice isn't easy—trust me." The young man nodded and stood up, quickly collecting the chess pieces, putting them away so he could get up to the archives. He worshiped Garrus, many of the ensigns did, for good reason too. Garrus continued behind Thane toward his quarters.

When they reached the hatch, Thane ushered Garrus in and locked the door behind them. He walked over to his desk and pulled a small silver orb out of one of the drawers. He squeezed it a couple of times, and then set it on the floor in the middle of the room. The orb began emitting a dull red light. Garrus was familiar with this kind of device, it was a signal jammer, they were hard to come by, but they were essential for Thane's craft. The assassin pulled out his datapad and handed it to Garrus.

"I still get bulletins for different jobs that come in, and I received this one ten minutes ago." Garrus took a moment to read the message before looking back up at Thane—then he read it again."

========================SPECIAL BULLETIN============================

Target: Alan Shepard, a.k.a. Commander Shepard, Spectre, and Captain of Cerberus ship Normandy.

Target: Jack, a.k.a Subject Zero, crewmember of Normandy.

Bounty: 75,000,000 credits if alive. 0 credits if dead.

Targets were last seen in the warehouse district on Omega. Are to be considered armed and _extremely_ dangerous. These targets are to be brought to a drop point that will be determined after apprehension. Targets are to be taken alive. Bounty will not be paid if they are not living. Time is short on this one. It's only a matter of time before large Cerberus and Alliance forced are deployed to extract targets. Contact for drop point can be obtained through usual channels, but only after satisfactory evidence is provided verifying the safety of the targets. Good luck.

Garrus looked up from the datapad at Thane. "What the hell is going on?"

"I don't know, but I just received that message a short while ago. Hopefully they're still okay, and I don't think that it's a coincidence that Zaeed wasn't included in the bulletin. Something has gone horribly wrong and we need to get moving."

"Why not just send a larger party from the ship or wait for help from the Alliance? I'm sure they've already intercepted this message and are already mobilizing."

"Because something doesn't stack up here. The bounty, Zaeed, Jack, Shepard. I don't even think this bounty is from the Shadow Broker." Garrus shot a perplexed look at his friend.

"Well who the hell else would be interested in those two enough to pay that kind of bounty?"

"Beats me, all I know is that we better locate at least Shepard and Jack and find out what is really going on before somebody else finds them."

"Agreed."

"I'll meet you at the docking hatch in fifteen."

"Got it." Garrus handed the datapad back to Thane and opened the hatch. After the door slid shut, Thane went over to his closet and opened it. All of the other gear that he would need was stored in the armory, and he would have to check it out from Jacob, but this he always kept close. He pulled the long black case out and laid it on top of his rack. Thane placed his thumbs on two sensors, one on each lock, and the case popped open. Inside were a number of identification cards, a large sum of credits, a small pistol with some rounds, and a katana. Thane pulled out the dark blue scabbard with blade, closed the case, and put it back in his closet.

He looked over at his bed with the weapon resting on top of it. Thane hadn't used the blade in years and memories came rushing back. He picked it up, unsheathed it halfway, and looked at the ancient red glyphs etched into the side of the blade. Thane had spent his entire childhood training intensely as an assassin, it all culminating with his first kill, and subsequently with this blade. It was more symbolic than anything really, carrying around a katana on your back was a surefire way to attract attention to yourself, but Thane figured he could use the help. His Drell instructors had told him that he was the best that they had ever seen with a katana at the temple, and they weren't too prone to giving out compliments. Thane slide it back into its scabbard, deactivated the signal jamming orb sitting in the middle of his quarters, and headed toward the armory. Time was short.

When Thane reached the armory Garrus was already loaded up with heavy battle armor and a full complement of the best weapons that the armory could offer. Garrus looked at Thane from across the room set a black duffel bag that he had been holding down with a metallic thud. Whatever it was it sounded heavy. The battle-hardened warrior cracked a smile at quite possibly the most skilled assassin in the galaxy. Whatever resistance these two were about to run into had better be at the top of their game. Jacob solemnly opened Thane's locker for him and equipped him with his usual load out. It was much lighter than Garrus's, but Thane's skills depended mostly upon stealth and mobility. Jacob said nothing during the ordeal, and Thane wondered what he knew. Whatever it was, Thane knew that Jacob would use his best judgment to protect those involved. After Thane finished attaching his katana to the back plate on his light armor, and Garrus op-checked his gear they headed for the door. Thirteen minutes. Two minutes to spare. As they reached the door, Jacob spoke up.

"Whatever the fuck you two are up to…well, good luck. Be safe out there." The two nodded at the Alliance man and headed toward the docking hatch.

**In an abandoned building, in a quarantined district on Omega…**

Lights were flashing intermittently throughout the apartment building. Trash was everywhere and windows and doors lay in tatters. This building, along with the rest of the district, had been neglected for a long time. Omega was a shithole through and through, the thought of living in marginalized areas like this one was almost unimaginable. The quarian struggled to pull Shepard's unresponsive body up the stairs. She figured she'd at least get a better view at whatever was hunting her from the higher levels. The streets were teaming with mercs at this point. It wasn't looking too good, and if Shepard didn't wake up soon they were fucked. She slowly backed her way up the winding stairs. Shepard's heels hit the steps with a thud on each one. When the quarian reached the next platform, she stopped to look out the window at the street below. Mercs were everywhere. It would be a miracle if they got out of here alive. She figured it was time to move again, they had ten more flights before they reached the top, and this shit wasn't easy. As she grabbed Shepard from under his arms she could hear an insane, blood-curdling howling emanating from the street. _Or was it in the building!_ They had to get someplace safe. And fast. The lights flashed and sparked down on them. They continued up the stairs.

Thane and Garrus headed for the red light district of Omega immediately. They figured with this much merc activity going on there was a good chance that Shep and Jack were still safe, well, not in merc hands yet anyway. That meant that they still weren't in the warehouse district, and the best place to get information on Omega was the red light district. Normally the two would have stuck out like a volus in a strong man competition, but that was definitely not the case today. There were mercs of every species and every clan running around. They knew as good as they were, they would have to pick their battles carefully. Before they reached "The House" where most of the girls could usually be found, Garrus called Thane over to a side alley.

"I think you better come see this Garrus." Garrus did a quick scan of the surrounding before as he walked over to accompany Thane. What Garrus saw what Thane had called him over for, even he was somewhat shocked by what he saw. There was blood everywhere, with two naked bodies, laying dismembered and broken in the dark alley. One looked to be human, but you wouldn't be able to tell from looking at her face, because it was missing, and her skull was crushed, with chunks of brain and other matter leaking out of the gaping cracks. The asari's genitals had been cut out, and jammed into the gaping wound that used to be her vagina, was what appeared to be a Kroveg Cube. It had been a long time since Garrus had seen a similar scene, not since he was working at C-SEC. One of the few perps he was never able to collar. The Ripper. Whether this was the same guy or not, Garrus knew that whomever was responsible for this was sick beyond repair, and chances were good they had done it _many_ times before.

Thane grabbed a sheet of polymer from a nearby trash bin and placed it over the bodies. Garrus watched for trouble as the Drell said a prayer for the departed, and they continued toward the house in silence. There was a reason why they were both trying to get away from this line of work, the things that they saw, the things that they had to do, but it always seemed to find a way to creep its way back in. When they reached the door Thane hit the button for the buzzer and a soft voice answered over the intercom.

"If you're here for information about the bounty we don't know anything." Garrus looked over at Thane, and gestured for him to hit the button again. Thane pressed it and Garrus leaned toward the microphone.

"We saw your friends in the alleyway on the way up here. I'm sorry. I really am, and I know that doesn't mean that much to you right now, but you need to understand that only here to find our friends. We don't know what kind of trouble they're in, all we know is that it's big trouble, and the sooner we get them off of Omega the sooner these mercs leave Omega. If you can tell us anything that can help we will forever be in your debt, and I swear we will do whatever is in our power to bring the monsters responsible for the death of your friend to justice."

Thane released the button to the intercom and gave his friend a nod of approval. There was a moment of silence before the girl on the other end began to speak. She was beginning to cry. "Those fucking assholes! Why did they have to do that to them? They didn't know anything. Nobody knows anything! All I know is that a quarian by the name of T'Ani had been seen talking to a merc before this all started, and now nobody knows where she is and Lola and Kelsea are dead now." The girl began sobbing. Thane pressed the button again and spoke into the microphone.

"Do you know if the merc was with anyone else?" She collected herself and began to speak again.

"I've been told that he was seen going into the Inferno, caused some trouble with two humans, a man and a woman, and then left real quick. I heard the other two might even be the marks the the mercs are looking for." Thane and Garrus looked at each other before Garrus spoke.

"Zaeed."

"What?"

"Nevermind. Can you tell me anything about where we could find T'Ani, someplace that she might go to be safe, or maybe where she lives?"

"All I can tell you is that she lived in Sector 15, the quarantine district that's been abandoned for years." Thane and Garrus looked at each other again. It was a good start. Garrus spoke into the microphone one last time.

"Thank you very much. And I swear we will do everything in our power to bring T'Ani back to you." When they reached the corner by the street, Thane hailed a cab, and they set out for Sector 15.

Rak Massani was on top of the world right now. It didn't bother him that he and his crew had to torture and kill several people in order to get the information that they needed. That was a bonus. He was more of a sportsman really, he never liked it when the hunt was too easy. There was only one building left for them to check out in this sector, he had actually caught a glimpse of the quarian going up the stairwell from street level half an hour prior, but this made the hunt that much better. Rak liked watching the hunger grow in the bellies of his crew—especially Grinder. The varren was so hungry it had broken free from the grip of his vorcha cronies in the last building and torn a man clean in half. It was awesome, and the man's wife provided a nice distraction for Rak and his men. Of course Rak always kept a mindful eye on the building where the quarian was, there was a fine line between making the hunt more pleasurable and losing the prey. By the looks of these sorry assholes aimlessly roaming the streets, Rak figured his prize was pretty safe. He let out a great big howl as they entered the last building. Grinder let out his own and they began climbing the steps. It was a long ways up, but boy oh boy, this was going to be worth it. Rak loved quarians.

Garrus and Thane got out of the cab and Garrus paid the driver. The Batarian hadn't said a word on the way out. The less questions the better. As the driver pulled away he looked in his rear view and the two crew members of the Normandy and activated his transponder.

"Just dropped the turian and drell off in sector 15. Remember where you got this information from when you collect that bounty."

Garrus and Thane watched as the street ahead of them flooded with mercs of all shapes and sizes. They were all packing some serious business. Garrus and Thane were definitely on the right track, but they would have to even their odds. Garrus hiked his duffel bag up on his left shoulder and grabbed his shotgun with his right. Thane unsheathed his katana. The glyphs glowed in the night sky for a moment before going dark. The mercs waited at the other end of the street for the two to make their move. They watched as their silhouettes calmly moved their way toward the nearest set of buildings and entered. The mercs flooded into the opposite end. It was showtime.

The building had been some sort of makeshift hospital before being completely neglected. It was relatively narrow, and the walls between rooms had been knocked out to accommodate traffic. There were gurneys everywhere, some containing decomposing bodies. The only light that shone into the building was from a series of billboards outside. They flashed and strobed a mix of red, green, and blue through the windows, and cast long shadows across the walls. A Krogan and a Turian were the first to enter the main hall. They cautiously made their way through the gurneys, boots crushing broken glass, and keeping their assault rifles up and at the ready. A vorcha and a human waited at the back of the room by the door. Even though they outnumbered their enemies at least ten to one, they both knew that it was never a good time to be point. Especially against Garrus Vakarian and a Drell Assassin.

The krogan and turian stopped in the middle of the room and the Turian looked back at other two by the door in time to see the vorcha's head explode in a pink mist. The human threw himself to the floor as the vorcha's decapitated body sprayed blood in the air.

"Sniper! They're on the other side!" The sound of a high powered sniper rifle could be from across the street and sound of men being blown to pieces could be heard inside the building. The mercs scrambled for cover and peeked over the window sill, firing in bursts in the direction of the sniper.

Thane dropped from the ceiling without making a sound and delicately maneuvered his way through the debris and toward the mercs crouched against the wall. They didn't have a clue that he was in the building, and thanks to the mirror mod that he had activated before entering the building, they didn't know that Garrus had entered the other. Just a little sleight of hand could go a long way. The sound of the sniper rifle was deafening even on this side of the street. In the shadows behind the krogan, Thane raised his blade and brought it straight down, nearly slicing the brute in two. By the time the turian turned and looked at his filleted friend, Thane thrust his blade through his nasal cavity, disconnecting his brain from his spine. As the turian convulsed on the floor, the human managed to get a couple of shots off with his pistol, all of which were in vein, because he was shooting at shadows, and Thane had slipped out the open window and was already behind him. Thane cut him half at the waist and launched himself back up into the rafters.

Garrus had already went through two clips with his sniper rifle, and the mercs were starting to mass at the doorway. It looked like they were going to make a break across the street, and as good of a shot as Garrus was, he knew he wasn't going to be able to hold them with the rifle alone. It was time to break into the duffle bag. Garrus pulled a couple of proximity mines out and placed them near the entrances at the two ends of the building. That was his insurance. From the sporadic gunfire and intermittent screams that he could hear from across the street, Garrus figured Thane was doing just fine, and those boys massed up by the door were ready to try their luck on his side. Those boys were wrong. They were fucked either way. Garrus hefted the gatling gun out of the bag and rested it on the window sill.

It had taken years for Thane to master hand to hand combat and the use of close quarter weaponry. As he prepared to pounce on his prey from above, prey that had no idea what direction was, and was frantically screaming and firing sporadically into the walls, Thane thought of the hard lessons that he had endured up at the Temple. He had received one severe beating after another, with fists and staff alike, until one day, he learned to trust his instinct, and instead of fighting the motion of the universe, to harness it, and to be one with it. Thane dropped from the ceiling and executed a combat roll in the direction of the batarian so fast that he didn't even have a chance to level his weapon. Before the batarian knew what was going on, Thane smashed into the side of his head with a roundhouse kick, fracturing the merc's skull, and sending him flying across the room. The other mercs had no idea that Thane was even in the room with them, so when they heard the batarian's body smash against a gurney, they began to shoot at it. If the batarian wasn't dead after the kick, he was now, and so were the others as Thane flipped, kicked, and sliced his way toward the exit. It appeared as if a large number of the mercs were attempting to cross the street over to Garrus's building. Garrus opened up with the gatling gun. Thane couldn't help but smile.

A vorcha was the first to try to cross the street. Garrus had hit with about twenty rounds before the other mercs even knew what was going on. Garrus mowed them down effortlessly as they tripped over each other's dead or dying bodies looking for cover. None of them ever did get close to the door where Garrus had placed the mines, he'd have to remember to grab those. He stopped firing and watched as one last merc, a human, turned around and ran for Thane's building. Garrus watched as the human was flung five feet in the air, cut in half, having those pieces flung in the air again, and the halves being halved. _Show off_. He never did see Thane, only a shifting shadow.

Garrus deactivated the last of the two proximity mines and threw them in his bag. There was a tap on his shoulder and he drew his pistol to find nothing and a laughing Thane standing behind him. Garrus shook his head.

"You sure you're out of this business?"

"Some things never leave you."

"Yeah I know what you mean." Gun shots lit up a window in a tall apartment building down the street. The two looked at the site of the noise and light for a moment before Thane spoke again.

"Well, judging by the fact that those shots weren't directed at us, I'd say that's where we need to be."

"I agree." The warriors made their way out into the blood-drenched street toward the building.

Rak was pissed. Sure, he had his prey trapped on the roof, half his prey anyway, from what he could tell it was only the quarian and Shepard up there with them, but he also couldn't help but notice the fucking slaughterfest that had ensued on the street below. Judging by the volume of fire it was a pretty good sized element, a clan, or maybe a couple alliance squads. Either way, they were going to have to have to get the fuck off of that roof. He called for a pickup, so that was taken care of, but he was going to have to be careful not to kill Shepard otherwise he would lose at least half the bounty. He didn't want to hit the quarian either. He wanted to make the best out of the situation, have a little fun before his pickup. The quarian took another potshot with her pistol. They were going to have to make their move soon. Rak hadn't seen anything out of Shepard at this point, but he figured the quarian would have dumped the body long ago if he was dead. Rak ordered the vorcha and the turian back down into the building to buy him some more time. Besides, if he and Grinder couldn't take care of a little quarian, well, they were in the wrong business. The quarian took another shot with her pistol, missing Rak's head by inches. _Time to negotiate._

"Listen sweetheart, it's the end of the road for you. Either we make a deal and settle this with a little civility, or we both end up dying up here." Another shot from the pistol.

"You want to settle? Okay, how about you and your varren go somewhere and fuck each other in the ass and leave us the fuck alone." _Feisty for a quarian._ Rak liked what he was hearing, but he'd have to do something quick. He could hear gunshots in the building below them.

"Grinder go!" Without hesitation, the beast lept over the cover that they were hiding behind with Rak close behind. The quarian got a shot off, hitting the varren in the leg, but it wasn't enough to stop it from knocking her on her back, sending the pistol flying off of the edge of the building. Rak grabbed her by the throat. The gunfire was intensifying in the bowels of the building. Whatever was going on Rak's boys were doing a pretty good job at buying him time. He could see the dropship approaching in the distance. Shepard was unconscious. Rak picked the quarian up and slammed her against the wall.

"You have been a serious pain in the ass. I'm going to enjoy throwing you off of this building, but before I do, let's get a look at that pretty little face of yours." The gunfire seemed to be moving its way up the stairwell. Rak grabbed onto the quarian's mask, unlocked it, and tore it off.

"What the fuck!"

"What? My pretty little face isn't good enough for you?" Rak grunted and Jack headbutted him, smashing his nose to a pulp, and sending him sprawling across the roof. Rak tried to recover through a haze of blood and tears but before he could Jack had an iron grip on his throat and threw him against the wall. The gunship was approaching and the gunfire was beginning to taper inside the building. Grinder growled and limped his way toward the two.

"I heard what you did to those girls down there you fucking piece of shit."

"Grinder! Grinder!"

"Varren only respond to the alpha-male you stupid fuck. And guess what? I've got bigger balls than you'll ever have." Rak let out a scream as Jack applied more pressure to his throat. Jack smiled and whispered in Rak's ear.

"Especially after this." Rak looked at Jack with dread. Jack let go and picked him up with pure biotic force, spreading his legs in front of the varren. "Get him boy!" Grinder sunk his massive teeth into Rak's crotch tearing with all of his might, and doing whatever he could to gain purchase on the hard concrete. Rak let out a high-pitched squeal as the varren tore chunks of flesh, including his penis, and his intestines out of his body. Grinder playfully took off with Rak's guts in his mouth, spreading intestines, blood, and bile across the rooftop. Rak was dead. The ripper had been ripped. Jack turned her attention to the now fleeing dropship. She used everything she had to pull the massive machine back toward the apartment building. The pilot tried to gun the engines, but it was useless, he throttled down, and Jack landed it neatly next to her and Shepard. Jack told Grinder to watch the pilot while she dealt with business. The massive varren stood in front of the pilot growling and gnashing his massive teeth. Jack laughed as she watched the pilot's arms shoot straight up into the air. Garrus and Thane emerged in the doorway and ran over to where Jack was standing next the Shepard. Garrus looked down at Shepard.

"Is he okay?"

"Yeah, I think so. I'll explain on the way. We've got to get the fuck out of here, and we can't go back to the Normandy. Not yet anyway." Garrus and Thane helped load Shepard's limp body onto the dropship and Jack approached the pilot.

"There's been a change in plans. Either you help us, or I fucking kill you like your buddy over there." Jack motioned over to Rak's mangled body. Shane smiled. It was a relief for him to not have to deal with the Massani brothers anymore anyway. He knew if he tried to pull anything funny he'd end up dead real quick. What the chick had just done with his dropship was unheard of.

He was all smiles. "What can I do for you?"

"That's what I thought. Get us off Omega and onto a transport ship. We've got some travelling to do, and nobody can know where we're going."

"You're the boss." Shane revved the engines and Jack whistled for Grinder to get on the ship. He bounded aboard playfully and Jack set him in the passenger seat next to Shane. His large clumsy body was flipping all kinds of switches in the cockpit, but when Shane tried to turn them off the varren acted as if he was going to bite the human's arm off.

"Anything funny and I've have him bite off your balls like your buddy."

"Oh Rak. Rak was no buddy of mine. Just business that's all."

"Whatever. Fuck with us and you die." Shane lifted the ship off and began heading for the gate. It was going to be tricky, but if anyone was going to get them through under the radar, it was going to be him. Grinder watched him carefully.

Garrus watched as Shepard tossed in his sleep.

"I wonder what's going on in there?" Jack sat down next to Shepard.

"I don't know, but he told me not to worry, and he gave me some directions in case something like this happened. It's weird, I'm pretty sure he knew this was going to happen."

Thane looked over at Jack. "By the way, what happened to the real quarian girl?"

"Oh her? She's on her way home, not Omega either, her real home, the Migrant Fleet. We ran into some credits on the way and she got me a suit in exchange for her ticket."

"I didn't know quarians kept extra suits around."

"They don't."

"What?"

"Yeah, I picked this up from the sex store in town. You know, role-playing and that kind of shit. I might be skinny, but I'm not quarian skinny."

Thane and Garrus looked at each other and laughed.


	9. OOH RAH!

**CHAPTER 9**

**OOH RAH!**

Shepard found himself on a dropship, but instead of being surrounded by Jack, Garrus, and Thane, he was surrounded by a platoon of Marines. His platoon of Marines. Red looked across the deck at him with a full combat-load, and an anxious face. Shepard reached into his pocket and palmed the dog tag that Red had given him back in boot camp. _The second time or was it the third time?_

They were hitting some pretty heavy turbulence and the ride was getting rough. Shepard watched as the Marine next to him got sick on his boots. Shepard's platoon commander, Lt. Killgood stood up and braced himself against the wall of the transport—holding on to the supports overhead to keep his balance.

"Alright Marines, this is it, last contact with the colonists at Camp Eureka was over three days ago." The transport hit some more turbulence and Killgood almost lost his footing. "We're to go in, investigate, and report back whatever we find to Alliance HQ. Understood?"

The transport rung with the clear and simultaneous response of "Yes sir!" from all fifty Marines. Shepard looked back over at Red. It didn't appear as if the warning order had calmed his nerves at all—for good reason too, Red, along with every other Marines aboard the transport minus Shepard had no idea they were walking into an ambush—an ambush set up by a number of thresher maws. Hell, these Marines didn't even know what a thresher maw was yet! And if events unfolded like they did the first time for Shepard, he was going to be the only Marine that would live to tell about the experience. _If I could only save Red._

Shepard scanned the faces of his fellow Marines. He knew there was going to be an ambush. He knew what the enemy was. He knew how to defeat the enemy. If this was the same situation that he experienced years prior on Akuze, there was no reason why they should be defeated—certainly not almost entirely wiped out! Shepard began to stand up so he could report what he knew to the Lt. The transport hit a bump and knocked him back down in his seat. Shepard took a moment to think about what was going on.

What would happen if he did save not just Red's life, but the rest of the Marines' lives? As terrible as that darkest of nights on Akuze was, it had made Shepard into what he was today, or yesterday, or whatever the fuck it was now. Shepard had been the lone survivor—had watched his comrades blown to bits in front of his face, had mustered every ounce of endurance, perseverance, survival instinct, and what not that had existed within his being to survive. It had been a metamorphosis. After that point Shepard realized that he had an obligation to fulfill. He wasn't merely a Marine—it didn't come down to just being a military man; it was his job to endure the pain, the violence, to stare death in the face and not so much as blink, to live a life of silent solitude; to forget how to love and hate—to just be, and that's exactly what Shepard had done. He had accepted his responsibility, and because of his sacrifice, Shepard had been appointed the commander of the Normandy, Shepard had been assigned the role of Spectre—_Shepard had saved the galaxy_. As Shepard looked at the faces around him—some hard, many young; he wondered what would happen if he intervened. He wondered what it would mean for both him and the galaxy. If Shepard hadn't had the events of Akuze to mold him into the man that he was, would somebody else step up to take his place? Would somebody need to fill his shoes? These things were impossible to know at this point. Shepard stood up again and approached Lt. Killgood. Regardless of what was going to happen as a result of actions, Shepard couldn't standby idly as his comrades were being killed around him; especially when he knew how to stop what was going on. Shepard stopped in front of his platoon commander.

"What the fuck is it Shepard?"

"Sir. I think there is something that you should know." Killgood raised an eyebrow as he looked at to the best of his knowledge was a very young and squared away Marine.

"Shepard now isn't exactly the best time to tell me that you cheated on your entrance exam, or that your dick is going to fall off because you fucked some nasty bitch planetside."

"It's not that sir. It's about the mission."

"I'm listening Marine."

Shepard stared at Killgood's face and desperately searched for the best way to put what he was going to say. He couldn't just say that he had travelled through time, or dimensions, or whatever the fuck, and knew that a trio of thresher maw's were waiting for them on Akuze. He couldn't tell the lieutenant that he had seen him split nearly in two years prior. The man would have him committed, and whatever aid that Shepard could have provided would be negated because he would be sitting on the transport in restraints while his comrades were being killed…again. Shepard spat out the first sane thing that came to mind.

"I think we should call in some close air support sir."

"What."

"It's this feeling that I've got. I think there might be a dangerous enemy waiting for us." Killgood stared back at Shepard for a moment.

"Of course there might be a dangerous enemy you fucking moron. That's why we have fifty fucking Marines. The next time I need advice on how to show my ass in front of my superiors I'll come and ask you. Otherwise you better sit the fuck down before I have Fenway _so far up your ass_ you're not going to know what to do with yourself." Shepard couldn't believe it. He completely understood, but he couldn't believe it. He knew if he made more of a scene than this it would be bad news. He made his way back over to his seat and sat down. _Maybe something as big as this couldn't be changed._

The transport ship shuddered as it neared the surface of Akuze, and the roar of the reverse thrusters was deafening as the pilot slowed their descent. The Marines hastily checked their gear one last time before they had to disembark. The ship landed with one final thud and a series of red running lights turned on and illuminated the floor, aiding the Marines standing up and grabbing their gear. The intercom cracked to life. It was the pilot.

"We're here gents. Didn't see any activity on the way down either. You are clear to disembark."

With that, the massive hydraulics controlling the door sprung to life, and under the hum of the machinery the large hatch slowly lowered itself, forming a ramp. The Marines filed out into the waning light, established a perimeter, and listened for any signs of life. There were none. Shepard waited next to his team—knowing that that previous attack had not happened until nightfall.

Akuze was a relatively sparse planet, with snow capped mountainous peaks, and seemingly endless rocky deserts stretching as far as the Marines could see. Camp Eureka had been established on Akuze five years prior; having produced a substantial amount of Samarium, the camp had inspired the credit heavy dreams of many, and help fuel the massive human push out into ever deeper space. _Into ever more dangerous space_. Now, as the Marines spied the camp through their optics from a mile away, the camp seemed as if it had been abandoned years ago. The massive mining equipment including, trucks, elevators, excavators, and all things in between lay dormant, without a hint of their owners or their whereabouts. Shepard's speaker in his helmet went silent for a moment as Lt. Killgood keyed in, taking precedence over the other radio chatter.

"Section leaders, I want you to get your teams formed up and patrolling down that hill toward Eureka. I want a healthy amount of dispersion between your Marines." Killgood thought about the strange conversation that had had with Shepard aboard the transport. "Plus we still don't know what the fuck is out here."

The section leaders confirmed that they heard the order and began issuing their own to their respective fire team leaders. Shepard's team leader, Sgt. Fenway, rounded up Red, Shepard, and the other two members of their team, Rickshaw, and Cage—integrating them the large column formation that the platoon was forming. Red hadn't said a word to Shepard since they had landed. Shepard had to fight back the urge to say something to him about what was waiting for them a mere two hours time, and a mile away in Eureka. He hadn't decided on what to do yet. _And what if he was wrong?_ The Marines began to move with weapons up, and eyes wary toward the camp. The glow of Akuze's star dipped behind the distant mountains, and the terrain was set ablaze with an eerie purplish blue light.

The Marines moved efficiently through the growing darkness, taking time periodically to scan their surroundings with their advanced optics and communicating silently through their throat mikes. By the time they reached the ominous perimeter of Camp Eureka all was clear—not a single movement, sound, nothing. They cautiously made their way through the gate and established a hasty security on the nearby buildings. Shepard knew it wouldn't be long before the maws burst through the soil; tearing men to shreds and vaporizing others that had the displeasure of watching. They advanced. And then it happened.

Kaboom! There was a massive explosion, and Marines everywhere scrambled for cover and hit the deck.

Team two, the fire team ahead of Shepard's, had just been blown to pieces by something—and Shepard knew it sure as hell hadn't been a maw. One Marine had survived the blast, his legs had been damaged badly, and lay unnaturally next to him. He was screaming, and other Marines where calling for the medic. Shepard looked on incredulously trying to figure out what the hell had happened. Then another explosion landed to their rear, striking the gate and blasting it to pieces, sending shrapnel whistling over the Marine's heads.

"Mortars!"

Boom! Boom! Boom! Throaty blasts were sending volumes of dirt and other debris flying throughout the air. The teams gathered themselves, scrambling to gain better cover, but the buildings were mere shacks made out of flimsy material—definitely not enough to protect someone from a mortar. They pushed on.

"Contact front!"

A man—whether he was a pirate, rebel, psycho; Shepard hadn't the slightest clue, popped out from behind a building with a rocket launcher. The Marines reacted quickly, engaging him with machine guns and assault rifles alike. The man pulled the trigger to his rocket, sending it flying astray and into a nearby building, as his bullet riddled body crumpled and fell to the ground. The mortars had ceased temporarily, but enemy combatants began appearing over ridge lines and behind buildings. An enormous salvo of fire rained down on the Marines as they attempted to gain their bearing. Shepard's team pushed into a nearby building; Cage was the point-man. As the team made its way through the dark halls, rounds began blasting their way through the wall right over their heads. Sgt. Fenway reacted quickly and decisively, sending Rickshaw and Cage to provide security in the hallway. He stacked next to the doorway opposite of Red and Shepard. After a quick look to his Marines, he donkey kicked the door, sending it flying open with a crash. Shepard with the first to enter—scanning, and then engaging an enemy holding a high-powered pistol to his right. Shepard pulled the trigger quickly, hitting the man with two rounds to the chest and one to the head. The man dropped hard, but Red and Sgt. Fenway had already cleared their sectors before he had to hit the ground.

"Right side clear."

"Left side clear."

"Let's get moving. We've got a long ways to go gents." Machinegun fire rang out in the hallway. Shepard figured it must have been Cage providing security down the dark hall. The Marine's exited, moving up behind Cage. He let out short bursts of ammunition—saving his rounds so he could stay in the fight longer. The hallway lit up as every round was fired, and Shepard's hearing was muffled and his ears felt packed with dirt from the intense sound that was echoing through his head. A man on the other side of the hallway screamed as Cage fired and clipped his adversary's shoulder with a round—sending him spinning. The Marines advanced, engaging enemies as they presented themselves, throwing grenades, clearing rooms, and even engaging in hand to hand combat. Shepard's team was the best in the platoon. They moved with a power and grace seldom seen from other teams—being able to communicate without words, and many times overcoming their adversaries before they even knew what was happening. When the team reached the end of the building, having cleared the whole structure, Sgt. Fenway took a moment to check his team's status. They were all pretty winded, sweating and breathing heavily, but other than that they were good. It was time to move.

Shepard looked out into the street he could see that the other teams were having similar success. Their enemy—whomever the fuck they might be; had completely underestimated the Marines. Buildings all across the camp were lighting up with the tight controlled bursts from the trained combatants. It was quite dark by now, and besides the occasional gunfire that was echoing past the buildings, Shepard could hear men screaming as they died, and Marines yelling orders and communicating…and a soft humming.

The humming quickly increased in level and proximity, and before Shepard and the rest of the Marines knew it, they were looking down one of the many barrels affixed to a gunship. Something had gone horribly wrong. Not only were these guys not thresher maws, they seemed to be organized—first there were mortars and now a gunship! Who would want to engage a platoon of Marines like this? The gunship wasted no time in sending out its first salvo of rockets—decimating buildings and Marines alike. Fiery explosions shot skyward and made the belly of the gun metal colored craft glow brightly. Rounds deflected off of the cockpit windows, having no effect whatsoever, and spiraling out into the dark sky. Shepard was desperately trying to come up with a solution. _What if he died here like this? What would happen to his other self back on Omega with Jack?_ Sgt. Fenway yelled for them to push forward to the next building. As the team began to move Fenway was slammed to the ground by a huge volume of machinegun fire. His team watched helplessly and pushed forward and his body was tossed and split to bits. The Cage was running next to Shepard, he was the next to go; then Rickshaw. This was getting out of hand. _What the fuck was going on!_ A missile exploded in from of Shepard, completely destroying the building, and sending both him and Red flying. Shepard scrambled for his rifle that had been knocked out of his hands as he could hear the gunships automatic turrets zeroing in on him. He wasn't going to make it. Red was unconscious. Shepard screamed. _We're both going to die here! This wasn't supposed to happen! What the fuck am I supposed to do!_

The ground shook violently and debris flew everywhere as the thresher maw flung itself through the soil and into the gunship. The ship spun out of control and smashed into a building—both disappearing in a fantastic explosion. Shepard didn't know what to do. He was in shock. He stared at the maw and wondered if he was dreaming. Then it sent out a massive pulse of energy, vaporizing an entire team of Marines. Oddly enough, this was somewhat comforting for Shepard. At least he was dealing with something that was slightly familiar now.

The maw didn't discriminate when it came to killing. It cut and vaporized its way through both sides. Shepard and Red…_or was it just Shepard? _had hid under the debris of a fallen building for three days before a search party and reinforcements were sent to get them last time. He looked over at where Red was laying and decided that it was time to save his friend. Whatever was going on, the situation was already completely fucked up. What difference would it make if he tried to save his friend? Shepard ran over and began shaking his dust covered buddy to get him up. Red slowly came to.

"What the fuck happened?"

"Don't worry about it. We've got to get somewhere safe." The familiar sound of explosions and men screaming could be heard on the other side of the camp. The thresher maw let out a massive roar. Shepard helped Red up and they made their way to the nearest building. This one had some sort of cellar, so it provided a little better cover from above, but in all reality if a maw knew where they were it could easily destroy the entire structure. Shepard hoped that he could find something that could help him. Red was still a little shaken up, with blood seeping out of his left ear, so Shepard told him to sit down while he looked.

"Thanks for not leaving me out there buddy."

"No problem man." Shepard continued to look around the dark cellar for something; anything—even an idea would be better than what he had at the moment. There were tools, fuel cells, some other mining equipment, but there wasn't anything that even come close to taking a maw down.

"Hey Shep! Come here for a second" Shepard turned around to see what Red was talking about. Red shot a round from his assault rifle into Shepard's guts. Shepard looked down at his wound and his blood hand covering it incredulously.

"I should have shot you in the fucking head, but I really wanted to see what your reaction was going to be after I did that." Red started to laugh. "Pretty fucked up universe we live in isn't it?"

Shepard couldn't say anything. He uttered a couple of words and collapsed. He was dying. "We handled that ambush a little better than what I had expected. Good thing I've got reinforcements coming to take care of our little maw problem and give me a ride." Red walked up to Shepard pointing the rifle at his head. He was going to execute the very man that had saved his life. Twice.

The building exploded with such force and that nothing was left standing. Shepard couldn't feel anything anymore. He had lost a considerable amount of blood. The maw towered over him. It had tried to locate Shepard as quickly as possible, but there was some sort of interference affecting time. Something had gone terribly wrong. There was an anomaly in the space time field. The maw knew of Shepard. Everyone knew of Shepard. He was the key to all of this. But something had happened and now there was another. Everything had been put into place up to this point. Akuze, Shepard surviving, him saving the galaxy, the reapers, the collectors, subject zero, everything. It had been the job of the maws for time immemorial to oversee the flow of time, to weave the pattern that all creatures existed upon. They could only weave though. Shepard would have to fix this. _He had saved Red._ Red and Shepard had become the only two survivors of Akuze. Not just Shepard! But their lives would diverge shortly thereafter. Red would become jaded and lead a life of crime. Shepard would follow the basically the same path that he had. Red would eventually capture Shepard, torture him, and learn the secret of his ability to traverse time. Red would then use this knowledge to travel back, set up an ambush to destroy all of the Marines except himself, and become the supreme ruler of all things known to the universe. These were very dark times indeed, and if Shepard didn't rectify this, there was nothing that could stop him. The maw got to work.


End file.
